Dedication
Formysmart,loving,andtalentedsister,Camille.Contents
Cover
TitlePage
Dedication
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Thirteen
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Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
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Twenty-One
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Twenty-Seven
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Twenty-Nine
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Thirty-One
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Thirty-Five
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Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthor
BooksbyAxieOh
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AboutthePublisherOne
Jay’sKaraokesitsatthecenterofaKoreatownstripmallbetweenaBobaLand2andSookie’sHairEmporium.
ThedoortothelatterburstsopenasIpass.“Yah,Jenny-yah!”SookieKim,ownerandhairdresser,standsinthedoorwayholdingaplasticbagandaflatiron.“Aren’tyougoingtosayhello?”
“Hello,Mrs.Kim,”Isay,thenstretchmynecktolookoverhershoulderwherethreemiddle-agedwomenareseatedinarowbeneathhairdryerswatchingaK-dramaonawall-mountedTV.“Hi,Mrs.Lim,Mrs.Chang,Mrs.Sutjiawan.”
“Hi,Jenny,”theychorusback,wavingatmebrieflybeforereturningtheirattentiontothecoupleonscreenwhoappeartobeheadingtowardaK-dramakiss.Themanleanshisheadoneway,thewomantheother,theirlipstouchandholdasthecamerapansoutwithdramaticmusicsoaringinthebackground.
Asthecreditsstarttoroll,theladiescollapsebackintheirchairswithdreamysighs.Well,twoofthemdo.
“That’sit?”Mrs.SutjiawanthrowsherhouseslipperattheTV.
“Here.”Ignoringthewomen,Mrs.Kimhandsovertheplasticbagshe’sholding,whichoncloserinspectionappearstobefoodwrappedupinaHMartgrocerybagandknottedtight.“Thisisforyoutosharewithyourmother.”
“Thankyou.”IadjustmytoteonmyshoulderandbowslightlyasItaketheoffering.
Mrs.Kimclickshertongue.“Yourmotherworkstoomuch!Sheshouldbeathomemore,lookingafterherdaughter.”
I’malmostcertainmymotherworksthesameamountofhoursattheofficeasMrs.Kimdoesatherownbusiness,butIhaveastrongenoughsenseofself-preservationnottopointthisout.Instead,Icontinuetogiveoffrespectable-young-person-vibesandsmilepolitely.ItseemstobeworkingbecauseMrs.Kim’sfacesoftens.“Yourmothermustbesoproudofyou,Jenny.Agoodstudent.Andsogiftedincello!ItellmyEunicethatgoodmusicschoolsonlytakethebest,butdoesshelisten?”
“Sookie-ssi!”oneoftheladiescallsfrominside.
“Coming,”sheyellsback.Assheheadsintohershop,Imakemywaynextdoor.
EversinceEuniceandIstartedenteringthesameclassicalmusiccompetitionsinseventhgrade,Mrs.Kimhasbeencomparingthetwoofus.Withthecomplimentsshe’salwaysgivingme,IshuddertothinkwhatEuniceisreceivingontheoppositeend.Lately,Ihaven’tseenheratanyofthecompetitions.Shewasn’tatlastSaturday’s,theresultsofwhicharecurrentlyburningaholethroughmyjacketpocket.IfMrs.Kimweretoreadwhatthejudgessaidaboutme,shewouldn’tbesoquickwithherpraise.
ThebellsabovethedooratJay’sKaraokechimemyarrival.
“Berightthere!”UncleJay’svoicetravelsfrombehindthecurtainthatseparatesthebarfromthekitchen.
Edgingaroundthecounter,IdropmytoteandopentheminifridgetostuffMrs.Kim’sTupperwarebetweenbottlesofsoju.
Sevenyearsago,DadandUncleJayboughtthisplaceinordertofulfilladreamthey’dhadsincetheywerekids,toownandmanageakaraokebusinesstogether.
UncleJayisn’trelatedtomebyblood,butheandmydadwerelikebrothers.Aftermydadpassed,itwasUncleJaywhoaskedmymomifIcouldcomeworkforhimafterschool.AtfirstMomwasagainstit,worriedapart-timejobwouldn’tleaveenoughtimeforschoolandorchestrapractice,butshecamearoundwhenUncleJaysaidIcoulddomyhomeworkduringoffhours.PlusIpracticallygrewuphere.IhavememoriesofDadbehindthebar,laughingwithUncleJayashewhippeduphislatestconcoction,notforgettingaspecialnon-alcoholicdrinkjustforme.
Foryears,Iwasn’tallowedinthebar—Momwasafraidit’dbringbackmemories—butsofarit’sbeenfun,andthememories,onlygoodones.
Ispraythecounterwithcleaningsolutionandwipeitdown,thenmoveontothetallbartables.Therearen’tanycustomersinthemainroom,thoughaglimpsedownthehallshowsafewoftheprivatekaraokeroomsareoccupied.
“Hey,Jenny,thoughtthatwasyou.”UncleJayemerges,holdingtwopaperplatesofsteamingfood.“Today’sspecialisbulgogitacos.Hungry?”
“Starving.”IhopontoabarstoolandUncleJayplacestheplateinfrontofme,twotacoswithbulgogimarinatedinhisownspecialsauce,lettuce,tomatoes,cheese,andkimchi.
WhileIinhalemyfood,UncleJayturnsonNetflixabovethebar,scrollingthroughavailablemovies.
Thisisourritual.Thebardoesn’tgetbusyuntillaterinthenight,sowespendearlyeveningseatingandwatchingmovies,specificallyAsiangangsterfilms.
“Hereweare,”UncleJaysays,landingonaclassic.TheManfromNowherealsoknownasAjeossi.Anactionthrilleraboutanembitteredex-copwhoseyoungneighboriskidnappedandgoesonajourneytobringherbackhome.It’sliketheKoreanTaken,butbetter.BecauseithasWonBin.WonBinmakeseverythingbetter.
UncleJayputsonthesubtitlesandweeatandwatchthefilm,commentingonthebelievabilitythatsomehowWonBinisanajeossi,amiddle-agedman,atthirty-three.Whencustomerscomein,heturnsthevolumedownandleadsthemtotheirrooms.Ikeepaneyeonthemonitorthatshowswhethersomeonehaspushedacallbutton,sothatIcantakethecustomers’ordersandbringthemtheirfoodwhileUncleJayhandlestheirdrinkorders.
Bythetimenineo’clockrollsaround,halftheroomsarefilledandthemovieisfinished;instead,K-popblaresoverthespeakers.Everymonth,UncleJaystreamsYouTubecompilationsofthetopmusicvideosofthemonthontheTVinthebar.Iwatchasagroupofgirlsincolor-coordinatedoutfitsperformsacomplicatedandsynchronizeddancetoacatchyelectro-popsong.
Unlikesomeofthekidsatmyschool,InevercouldgetintoK-pop,oranypop,really.AplaylistofmylifewouldincludeBach,Haydn,andYo-YoMa.
“Didn’tyouhaveanimportantcompetitionthisweek?”UncleJayinspectsaglassbehindthecounter,dryingitwitharag.
Mystomachsinks.“Saturday.”Igivehimabittersmile.“Igottheresultsbackthismorning.”
“Yeah?”Hefrowns.“How’dyoudo?”
“Iwon.”
“What?Really?Congrats,girl!”Hepumpshisfistintheair.“Mynieceisachamp,”headdstothecouplesittingatthebar,startlingthemfromtheirtacos.
“Yeah…”Itracethelettersoftwosetsofinitialscarvedonthesurfaceofthecounterandlinkedbyaheart.
“What’sup?”Heputstheglassandragdownonthecounter.“Something’sbotheringyou,Icantell.”
“Thejudgesleftmefeedback.”Itakeoutthepaperfrommypocket,whichhasbeennoticeablycrumpled,thensmoothedout,thenfoldedintoasquare,andhanditover.“It’ssupposedtohelpmeimprovebeforethenextcompetition.”
AsUncleJayreadsthenote,IreplaythewordsI’vealreadymemorized.
WhileJennyisatalentedcellist,proficientinallthetechnicalelementsofmusic,shelacksthesparkthatwouldtakeherfromperfectlytrainedtoextraordinary.
Nextyear,hundredsofcellistsjustlikemewillbeapplyingtothebestmusicschoolsinthecountry.Inordertogetintooneofthetopschools,Ican’tjustbeperfect.Ihavetobeextraordinary.
UncleJayhandsthepaperback.“Talentedandtechnicallyskilled.Soundsaboutright.”
Istuffthenotedeepintomypocket.“Youmissedthepartwheretheycalledmeasoullessrobot.”
Helaughs.“Idefinitelymissedthatpart.”Thoughhemustfeelatadsympatheticbecauseheadds,“Icanseethatyou’redisappointed.Butit’sjustcritique.Yougetthemallthetime.”
“It’snotjustthatit’scritique,”Isay,tryingtoputmyfrustrationintowords.“It’sthatthere’snothingtoimproveupon.Emotioninmusicisexpressedthroughpitchanddynamics.I’mgreatatbothofthosethings.”
UncleJaygivesmeasidelongglance.
“TheysaidIlackspark!”
Hesighs,leaningagainstthebar.“Ithinkit’smorethatyouhaven’tfoundyoursparkyet,somethingthatlightsthatfirewithinyoutogoafterwhatyouwant.Forexample,yourdadandmedecidingtoopenupthiskaraokebar,eventhoughsomanypeopletoldusitwasawasteofmoney.Evenyourmom,thoughseeingashowshedidn’tgrowupwithmuch,Idon’tblameher.Weknewit’dbehardandthatwemightnotsucceedbutwestilltriedbecauseitwasourdream.”
“But…”Isayslowly,“whatdoesanyofthathavetodowithimpressingmusicschools?”
“Here,letmeexplainittoyouinJenny-speak.Youknowthatmoviewewatchedearliertonight?Ajeossi.There’saquoteWonBin’scharactersaysthatroughlytranslatesto,‘Peoplewholivefortomorrowshouldfearthepeoplewholivefortoday.’Doyouknowwhythatis?”
“No,”Idrawl,“butyou’regoingtotellme.”
“Becausethepeoplewholivefortomorrowdon’ttakerisks.They’reafraidoftheconsequences.Whilethepeoplewholivefortodayhavenothingtolose,sotheyfighttoothandnail.I’msayingthatmaybeyoushouldstopcaringsomuchaboutyourfuture,aboutgettingintomusicschool,aboutwhat’llcomeafter,and…livealittle.Havenewexperiences,makenewfriends.Ipromiseyoucangetthelifeyouwantnow,ifyoujustliveinit.”Thedoorchimejinglesascustomerswalkintothebar.
“Welcome!”UncleJaycallsout,leavingmetostewinmythoughtsasheroundsthecountertogreetthem.
IthinkabouttextingMom,exceptthatIknowwhatshe’dsay;IshouldpracticemoreandmaybescheduleadditionallessonswithEunbi.AlsonottolistentoUncleJay.IfUncleJayisallaboutlivinginthemomentandfollowingyourdreams,mymomismuchmorepractical.IcanhaveasuccessfulcareerasacellistbutonlyifIworkhardandfocuscompletely.
Anythingoutsideofthatisadistraction.
Though,it’snotlikeIhaven’tbeenworkinghard—Mrs.Kim,andpresumablyEunice,wouldknow—andstillIgotthatcritique.
MaybeUncleJayhasapoint.
“Don’tworryaboutit,kiddo,”hesaysreturningfromhelpingoutthecustomers.“You’llfigureitout.Whydon’tyougohomeearly,restup?Bomishouldbeheresoon.”BomiisthesurlyUCLAstudentwhousuallyworksthenightshift.“Justcheckinonroomeightbeforeyoudo.Thetimeranoutontheirmachinebuttheyhaven’tleftyet.”
Isigh.“Okay.”Slippingoffthebarstool,Itrudgedownthehall.ConfrontingcustomersisoneofmyleastfavoritetasksatJay’s.Whycan’ttheyjustreadtherules?
InmostkaraokejointsintheStates,customersarechargedattheendofthenight,usuallybythehour,andthecustomersaretheoneswhokeeptrackofthetimeandhowmuchthey’respending.UncleJayrunshiskaraokebusinessliketheydoinKorea,charginginadvanceforasetamountoftimethatappearsasacountdownclockonthescreeninsidetheroom.Thatway,peoplearen’tovercharged.Iftheywanttosingforlonger,theycanaddmoretimetotheirroom.MomalwayssaysUncleJaydoesn’treallyhaveaheadforbusiness.
Thedoortoroomeightisclosedwithnosoundcomingfrominside,butthatmakessenseiftheirtimehasrunout.Iknockonce,thenopenthedoor.
ThisistheVIProom,thelargestinthebarthatcanholduptotwentypeople.
I’msurprisedtofindasinglepersonintheroom.He’saguyaroundmyage,seatedinthecornerwithhisbackagainstthewallandhiseyesclosed.
Ilookforevidenceofanotherperson,butthelongtableisemptyoffoodordrinks.Ifhe’srentingtheroombyhimself,hemustbewealthy.Hisclotheslookexpensive.Asilkyshirtclingstohisshoulders,andhislonglegsarecladinsmoothblackpants.Hisleftarmisinacast,butaRolexglintsfromhisrightwrist—andarethosesleevetattoos?
Whatteenagerhassleevetattoos?
Ilookbacktohisface,startledtoseethathiseyesareopen.Iwaitforhimtospeak,butheremainssilent.Icoughtoclearmythroat.“Yourtimeexpired.Ifyouwouldliketousetheroomlonger,it’sfiftydollarsanhour.Otherwise,youneedtoleave.”
ThatcameoutruderthanIintended.Iblamethejudgesforputtingmeinabadmood.
Thesilencethatfollowsseemsheightenedwiththestrobelightsissuingfromthediscoballontheceiling.
Maybehecan’tspeakEnglish?HemightbefromKorea.NoAmericankidisthisstylish.
Itryagain,thistimeinKorean.“SiganJinasseoyo.Nagaseyo.”Literally,“Time’sup.Getout.”Thoughwithhonorifics,sotechnicallyI’mbeingpolite.
“Iheardyouthefirsttime,”hesaysinEnglish.Hisspeakingvoiceislowandsmooth.Hehasaslightaccent,asortofwarmcurlaroundhiswords.
Ifeelaninexplicableblushriseinmycheeks.“Thenwhydidn’tyousaysomething?”
“IwastryingtodecidewhetherIshouldbeoffended.”
Ipointtothelargelaminatedbookatthecenterofthetablethatlistsalltheavailablekaraokesongsbytitle.“Therulesarewrittenonthecoverofthesongbook.Theystipulatethatifyouhaven’tpurchasedmoretimeafterfifteenminutes,youhavetoleaveimmediately.”
Heshrugs.“I’moutofmoney.”
IeyehisGucciloafers.“Ihighlydoubtthat.”
“They’renotmine.”
Ifrown.“Youstolethem?”
Hepauses,thensaysslowly,“Youcouldsaythat.”
Ishelying?SomehowIdon’tthinkso.Ihadn’tseenhimcomeintothebar.Howlonghashebeeninthisroom?Alone.Whodoesthat,unlessthey’rehidingfromsomething?Andmaybeit’sbecauseIjustwatchedAjeossi,butmymindjumpstooneconclusion.
Istepcloser.Heseemstomirrormymovements,leaningawayfromthewall.
“Doyou—”Idropmyvoicelow.“Doyouneedhelp?”Incrimedramas,thepeoplemyagearen’teverinthegangbecausetheywanttobe.
Heshrugs.“Rightnow,fiftydollarswouldbegreat.”
Ishakemyhead.“I’maskingifyou’reintrouble?Like…withagang.”
Foramoment,helookstakenaback,hiseyeswideningslightly.Thenmywordsseemtoclickintoplaceandhedropshisgaze.“Ah,soyou’veguessedit.”
Inodfervently.“Youmustbesixteen,seventeen…”Ipress.“TherearelawstoprotectminorsintheUnitedStates.”Maybethey’reholdingsomethingoverhim,likethesafetyofasiblingorafriend.“Ifyouneedhelp,youonlyhavetoask.”
There’sashortpause,thenhesayssoftly,“IfIaskedyoutosaveme,wouldyou?”
Myheartbreaksalittle.“Icantry.”
Heliftshiseyestomine,andmybreathcatches.It’salmostunfairthatsomeonecouldbeso…beautiful.Hisskinisflawless.Hehasdarkeyesandsofthair,andafull,cherry-redmouth.
Hedropshisheadandhisshouldersstarttoshake.Ishe…crying?Imovecloser,onlytoseethathe’s…
Laughing.Heevenslapshiskneewithhisgoodhand.
Whatajerk!Iwasconcernedforhim.
Istompoutthedoor.
Inthefoyer,UncleJayglancesupfromwherehe’saddinghourstooneoftherooms.Hetakesonelookatmyexpressionandsighs.“Kid’snotleaving,huh?Don’tworry,I’lltakecareofit.”
Hestartstocomeoutfrombehindthebar,butIholdupahand.“Wait.”Hiswordsfromearlierechobacktome.Livealittle.“I’vegotthis.”Two
TheboyisstillsittinginthecornerwhenIentertheroom.AndmaybeIshouldbetickedoffthatheclearlydidn’tlistentome,butitdoesn’tmatter.
“Here’sthedeal,”Isay.“Iaddedanextratwentyminutestoyourroom.”
Hearchesabrow.“Howgenerous.”
“It’snotagift.Ichallengeyoutoakaraokebattle.”
Hestaresatmeblankly.
“Letmeshowyou.”Iscootintotheseatoppositehim,pickupthedevicethatcontrolsthekaraokemachine,andpresstheScorebutton.“Nowthemachinewillscoreourperformanceoncethesongisover,”Iexplain.“Ifyouwin,I’llgiveyouanotherhourinthisroom.Nocharge.IfIwin,youhavetoleave.”
I’malittlesurprisedthatI’mdoingthis.IwouldneverinamillionyearsthinkthatIwouldchallengeastranger—aboymyownagewho’sprobablythemostattractivepersonI’veeverseeninreallife—toakaraokebattle.Butaftergettingthefeedbackfromthejudges,I’mdeterminedtodosomethingaboutit.
MaybeUncleJaywasright.Maybegettingoutofmycomfortzoneandputtingmyselfouttherewillmakeadifference.
Ibitemylipandwaitastheboymullsovermyoffer.Honestly,it’sawin-winsituationforhim.Withoutpaying,hewouldhavetoleaveeventually.Soeitherhehastodowhathewasalwaysgoingtodo,orhegetsafreehourinrelativelysafecomfort.
Finallyhetapsthesongbookwithhisgoodhand.“Allright.I’llplayyourgame.Butyou’reabouttobedisappointed.I’mactuallydecentatsinging.”
Fromthesmirkonhisface,Icantellhe’salreadyplanninghishourofsquatter-living.LittledoesheknowthatthoughImightnothavethebestvoice,karaokemachinesscoreonpitch,andmineisperfect.
Hestartstopushthesongbookacrossthetable.
“Iwon’tbeneedingthat.”Ipickupthecontrollerandlookuptheartistbyname,plugginginmyselection.TheinstrumentalsforGloriaGaynor’s“IWillSurvive”begintoplay.
Istand,microphoneinhand,thenproceedtobeltoutthesong.Imostlychosethisonebecauseofthefastpace.IhavenotimetothinkordoubtmyselfwhenI’mtryingtobreathe.Itdoesn’thurtthatitalsohaslyricslike“Walkoutthedoor”and“You’renotwelcomeanymore.”
Whenit’sover,Icollapseontothecouch.Myscoreappearsonthescreen:95.
Theboytapshisgoodhandonthetableinaslowclap.“Thatwas…somethingelse.”
I’mbreathless;mycheeksareflushed.“Weonlyhaveeightminutesontheclock.Hurry,pickasong.”
Ilookuptofindhiseyesonme.“Youchooseforme.”
“Areyousure?”Ipickupthebookandturntothebackwherealltherecentsongshavebeenadded.“You’regoingtoregretthis.”Therearen’tmanychoicesforAmericansongs,buttheKoreansongsfilluptwopages.Ireadtheartistnamesaloud.
“XOXO?Whatkindofnameisthat?”Ilaugh.
Hescowls.“Sevenminutes.”
Therearesomanypossibilities.I’malmostgleefulwithpower.“DoyoupreferasonginEnglishorKorean?”
“Itdoesn’tmatter.”
“Imean,we’reatanoraebang,youmightaswellsingaKoreansong.Ijustdon’tknowmany.”
“Really?Noteven,like,theanthem?”
I’mabouttoanswerwithasnarkycomeback,whenIhesitate,remembering.“Iknowone…”
“What’sitcalled?”
“Idon’tknowthetitle.”Ihumthemelodybymemory,butit’sbeensolongsinceIlastheardit.“Sorry.”Ishakemyhead,feelingsillyforhavingbroughtitup.
“Gohae.”
Iblink,startled.“What?”
“‘Confession.’That’sthetitleofthesong.It’sfamous.”
Istareathim.Ican’tbelieveheknowsit,andjustfromafewbarsofmelody.“Itwasoneofmydad’sfavorites.”
“Itwasminetoo,”hesays.
Ifrown.“Itwasyourfavoritesong?”
“Myfather’s.”
There’sabeatofsilencebetweenusaswebothrecognizewe’respeakingofourfathersasifthey’renolongerhere.
Reachingout,hetakesthecontroller,andwithonehand,switchesthelanguagefromEnglishtoHangeulandplugsinthenumbers,hisfingersquickandsure.
Whentheinstrumentalsbegintoplay,Ifeeleverythinginsidemegostill.Thisisthesong.Irecognizethemelodyandthedistinctivesoundofakeyboard,thentheboystartstosing,andIforgettobreathe.
Ineverpaidattentiontothelyricsbefore,butnowtheywraparoundmelikesilk.
Hesingsaboutdaringtolovesomeonethoughtheworldwouldstandagainstthem.
Hisvoiceisfarfromperfect,roughandnotalwaysonpitch,andyetthere’sarawnessandvulnerabilitytoeveryphrase,everyword.
Amemorywashesoverme,fromfiveyearsago,sittingcross-leggedatthefootofmyfather’shospitalbed.Wewereplayingcardsontheblanket,andthissongwasplayinginthebackground.Andwewerelaughing.Sohardthatthereweretearsinoureyes,andIrememberedthinking,I’msohappy.Ineverwantthisfeelingtoend.Iwantittolastforever.
Butnothingeverdoes.
Onthescreen,ascoreappears:86.
Thetimerunsoutonthemachine.Theboygetstohisfeet,adjustinghiscast.Iinstinctivelystandtofacehim.
“Thankyou,”hesays,hesitantly.Hethenbows,andIbowback,whichshouldbeweirdbutforsomereasonisn’t.
Iwanttotellhimthatheshouldhavewon,thatanyjudgewouldhavescoredhissingingabovemine.Afterall,atruemusiciandoesn’tjustperformasongbutmakesyoufeelsomething.Andit’sclearwithhowmyheartachesfromthememoryandthemusic,hehasthespark.Iwanttoaskhimwhereitcomesfrom,andhowcanIfinditformyself.
ButIsaynothingandhequietlyleavestheroom,thedoorclickingshutbehindhim.Three
Inthefoyer,IfindBomipullingaUCLAsweatshirtoverherhead.“Hey,Jenny,”shesays,catchingsightofme.“Areyougoinghome?”Shestuffshersweatshirtandtherestofherbelongingsbehindthebar.“AvoidOlympicandNormandieonyourwayout.There’ssomesortofKoreanfestivalgoingonandthestreetsareblocked.”
UncleJaysweepsbackthecurtaintothekitchens,holdingatraywithaplateofkimchifriedricetoppedwithanegg.
Bomidoesn’tlookupfromwhereshe’sexchangingherbagformine.“Boss…”shebegins,handingmemineacrossthecounter,“canIgetoffearlyonSunday?IhavetostudyforanEconfinal.”
“Sure,sure.Iamnothingifnotaccommodating.”Heglancesatme.“Don’tforgettotakeyourleftoversfromthefridge.”
“It’sbanchan,notleftovers,”Icorrect.
“Man,”Bomilaments,“Iwishsomeonewouldgivemesidedishes.InsteadI’mstuckwithmakingramenoutofaricecooker.”
UncleJayandIbothstareather.“Whydon’tyouuseastove?”Iask.
Bomishrugs.“I’drathernotleavemyroomifIcanhelpit.”
UncleJayhandsherthetray.“Sogladyoucouldhonoruswithcomingtowork.”
IshakemyheadwithasmileandleandowntoretrieveMrs.Kim’sbanchanfromthefridge.Standing,IholdtheplasticbagofTupperwaretomychest.Thisisprobablythebesttimetomakemyexit,butIlingerbehindthebar.Bomiswitchesthemonitortoanindierockplaylist—herfavoritegenreofK-pop—beforeheadingoffdownthehalltodeliverthekimchifriedrice.Atoneofthetablesinthefoyer,fourcollege-agedstudentshittheirshotglassestogether,celebratingtheweekend.
Ifeelatightnessinmychest.MaybeUncleJayandBomineedsomehelp.Idon’thavetoleave.Ineedtowakeupearlyformycellolessontomorrow,butmaybeIcouldstay.
“Jenny,you’restillhere?”UncleJayappearsbesideme,thistimecarryingawatermelononatray,halvedandhollowedandfilledwithamixtureofwatermelon,soju,andlime-soda.“You’llmissthebusifyoudon’theadoutsoon.”Hewalksfrombehindthecounter,callingoverhisshoulder.“Textmewhenyougethome!”
I’vebeendismissed.Sighing,Iadjustthestrapofmytotehigheronmyshoulderandheadtowardthefrontdoor,pushingitopen.Coolairwashesovermyface.
It’salmostteno’clockandyetit’sasbrightasdaywithalltheneonlightsissuingfromthesignboardsofmostbusinessesontheblock.Sookie’sHairEmporiumisclosed,butintheBobaLand2,apigtailedshopgirlchewsbubblegumasshescrollsthroughthemessagesonherphone.Onthecorner,theKoreanBBQrestaurantishopping,groupsofcollegestudentsandbusinesstypeschattingwhiletheycookmeatovercharcoalgrills.
Inoticethebusparkedatthecurb,lettingonpassengers,andIhurrytotheendoftheline.Afterpaying,Ishuffledowntheaisle,adjustingMrs.Kim’sbanchanasIreachuptotakethehandrail.Ibracemyselfasthebusjerksforwardandmybaghitsthepersonsittinginoneofthesinglepassengerseats.
“Sorry!”Iwince.Theguylooksup.
It’shim.Theboyfromthekaraokebar.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Iblurtout.Thoughtheanswerisprettyobvious;he’sridingabus.“Imean,Ithoughtyousaidyoudidn’thaveanymoney.”
Heholdsupasingle-ridebusticket.“Whataboutyou?Didyougetoffwork?”Hepauses,andthenasmallsmirkformsonhisperfectlips.“Ordidyoufollowmehere?”
Isputter.“Ididn’t—”
“Areyougoingtotakethatseat?”Awomantapsmyshoulder,pointingtotheseatbehindhim.
“Oh,no.”Imovebacksoshecansitdown,andnowI’mjusthoveringhereawkwardlyoverbothofthem.Turningaround,Imovetotheothersideofthebus,cheeksflushedfromembarrassment.
ThebusslowsasitnearsWest8thStreet,lettingonabunchofcollegestudentsandanelderlyKoreangrandmother,easilyidentifiablewithhershortgrayhairinaperm.Thestudentsmusthavejustcomefromabarbecausetheirvoicesareloudandtheysmelllikechickenandbeer.Withoutaplacetosit,theyblockupmostoftheaisle,chattingingroupsastheyhangontotherailings.They’resopreoccupiedwithoneanother,theydon’tnoticethegrandmothertryingtosqueezepastthem.
Thebuspullsawayfromthecurb.Alookoffearflitsacrossthegrandmother’sfaceasshetriesoncemoretogetpastthestudents.Shelooksup,butthehandrailistoohighforhertoreach.Thewheelshitapotholeandshestumbles
“Watchout—”Ilurchforward.
Theboyfromthekaraokebarcatchesherbythearm.“Halmeoni,”headdressesherinKorean.Herlipstrembleatthesightofhim.“Areyouallright?”Shenodsthatshe’sokay.Heleadshertotheseatbythewindow,theonehe’dpreviouslyoccupied.“Pleasesit,”hesays,indicatingforhertotakeit.Asshesettles,shepatshisarm,praisinghiminKorean.
Itearmygazeaway.Myheartisracing.Shecouldhavefallen.Ifhehadn’tnoticedherandalreadymadethechoicetogiveherhisseat,ifhehadn’thadthequickreflexestocatchher,shewouldhave.
Thehandrailtomyrightcreaksassomeonegrabsholdofit.
Istareforwardoutthewindowasthebustakesadetouraroundaconed-offstreetlinedwithmarketstalls.
Besideme,theboyfromthekaraokeroomleansforward,peeringoutthewindow.“What’sgoingon?”
I’mfeelinggeneroustowardhimafterthatwholesavingthehalmeonithing.“LA’sannualKoreanfestival.Apparentlytheyblockedoffsomeoftheroads.”AcreaseformsbetweenhisbrowsandIrealizethatifhe’snotfromaroundhere,hemightnotknowthestreets.“Whereareyoutryingtogo?”
“I’mnotsure.”
Ifrown.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“I’minthemiddleofrunningaway.”
Iwaitforhimtocrackasmile,buthisfaceisseriousandalittlesad.
“Fromgangsters?”Ideadpan.
Ifeelasenseofsatisfactionwhenhesmiles.
“From…”Hissmilefadesmarginally.“Chaegim-kam.What’sthewordinEnglish?”
“Responsibility.”Awordthatcouldmeansomanythings,atleastintheKoreancommunity,fromtakingoutthetrashtobehavinginawaythatwon’tbringshametoyourfamily.Studyinghisreflectioninthewindow,Iwonderwhatresponsibilityhe’sreferringto.
Ithinkbacktoearliertonight,whenIfirstenteredtheroominthekaraokebar.Atthatpoint,he’dbeenaloneinthereforanhour,maybetwo.Andnowhe’sonabuswithoutadestinationinmind.Apartofme—alargepart—iscuriousaboutwhathe’srunningawayfrom,aboutwhyhefeltlikehadto.Buttheotherpartrememberswhatit’slike,whentheonlywaytoescapetheenormousfeelingsinsideyouis…torun.
“Forwhatit’sworth,”Isay,“Ithinkit’simportanttotaketimeforyourself,evenwithresponsibilities.Youcan’tbethereforotherpeopleifyou’renotfirstthereforyourself.”
Itfeelsweirdgivingadvicetosomeonemyage,butthesearewordsIneedtoheartoo.Luckilyhedoesn’tseemputoff,mullingthemover;hismouthhasacontemplativeedgetoit.Hiseyessearchmineandthere’sanintensitytohisgazethatdoesstrangethingstomyheart.
“It’snoteasyformetobelievesomethinglikethat,”hesays.StandingthisclosetoeachotherIcanseethecolorofhiseyes,arich,warmbrown.“ButIwantto.”
Someonebumpsintohimfrombehindandhewinces,lettingoutasoftcurse.Movingslightlyclosertome,headjustshiscast.Theguywhobumpedintohim—oneoftheuniversitystudents—isjokingaroundwithhisfriends.
“Hey,”Isay,annoyedatboththisincidentandearlierwiththegrandmother,“Can’tyouseehisarmisbroken?Givehimmorespace.”
Outside,thebusapproachestheOlympicstop.Thedoorsopenbehindusandafewpassengersexit.Theuniversitystudent,clearlyinebriated,looksconfusedwhyI’vespokentohim.Thenhesneers.“It’safreecountry.”
“That’sright,”Ishootback.“You’refreetobeaconsideratehumanbeingoryou’refreetobeanasshole.”
Shockedsilencefollowsthisstatement.Theuniversitystudent’sfacestartstoturnapeculiarshadeofred.Oh,shit.
TheboyandImakeeyecontact.Hereachesformyhand.Idon’thavetothinktwice.Igrabit,andtogetherwejumpthroughtheclosingdoors.Four
We’velandedinthemiddleofthefestival.AbannerhangingabovethestreetreadsLAKoreanFestival,andinsmallerprintacrossthebottom:CelebratingtheCulturalDiversityofLosAngelesforoverFiftyYears.LiningthesidesofthestreetarefoodcartsservingtraditionalKoreanfood,tteok-bokkisimmeringinvatsofgochujangandeomukskeweredandcollectedinhotanchovybroth,andmorefusion-stylefood,scallopsgrilledwithmozzarellaandcheddarandhotdogscoatedinbatter,thendeepfried.
IlookdowntofindtheboyfromthekaraokebarandIarestillholdinghandssoIquicklyletgo.
“Sorry,”Isay,turningawayfromhimtohidemyflushedcheeks.“Aboutgettinguskickedoffthebus.”Well,technicallywejumpedoff.Buttheresultsarethesame.
Ifeelbad,though.Hemightnothavehadadestinationinmind,butI’msureitwasn’there,afewblocksfromJay’sKaraoke.
“Thisplaceseemsasgoodasanytowindup,”hesaysglancingupatthebanner.
“Doyou…wanttotakealookaround?”Igesturevaguelyatthefestival.“We’realreadyhere.”
Hiseyesreturntome,andagainIfeelthatoddfeelinginmychest.
“I’dlikethat.”
Westarttowalkdownthestreetlinedwithfoodcarts.Itdoesn’tescapemethatIcouldjustgohome.Earlierinthekaraokebar,withthecompetitionresultschurninginmypocket,I’dfeltthisurgetodosomething,andIsortofactedonimpulse.Butchallenginghimtoakaraokebattlewasn’texactlypracticalexperience.Realistically,Ishouldgohomeandpracticetonighttoprepareformylessontomorrowmorning.
Theonlythingis…Idon’twanttogohome.
I’mhavingmorefunthanI’vehadinalongtime,anditcan’thurttoindulgethesefeelings,atleastforonenight.
“Myname’sJenny,bytheway.”
“Mineis…”Hehesitates.“Jaewoo.”
I’mabouttoteasehimforhavingapparentlyforgottenhisnamewhenIcatchsightofsomeoneIvaguelyrecognizedownthestreet,butthensheentersatent,disappearingfromview.
“IsJennyalsoyourKoreanname?”Jaewooasks.
“MyKoreannameisJooyoung.”
“Jooyoung.”Hepronouncesthesyllablesslowly.“Joo.Young.Jooyoung-ah.”
“Okay,butnooneevercallsmethat.”I’mfeelingalittlewarm,soIacceptaplasticfansomeone’shandingoutandstartfanningmyself.
Thisfestivalseemstobecomprisedofboothsadvertisingdifferentkindsofbusinesses;thatandatonoffoodcarts.Wepassonesellingdakkochi.Amanwearinggiantglovesflipsskewersoveragrillwithonehandwhilealternativelycoatingthechickenwithathicksauceusingabastingbrush.Hethenblowtorchesthemtogetthecharredcrispiness.Iwatchastwogirlsapproachthestand.
Inanimpressivedisplayofambidexterity,themantakesatwenty-dollarbillfromoneofthegirlsandgivesherchangewithonehand,whiletransferringaskewerontoaplateandpassingitovertoherfriendwiththeother.
“IfeellikeI’mbackinSeoul,”Jaewoosaysdeadpan.
Ilaugh,thenaddthoughtfully,“I’veactuallyneverbeentoKorea.”
“Really?”Heglancesatme.“Youdon’thavefamilythere?”
“Mygrandmotheronmymom’sside,butI’venevermether.Sheandmymomhaveastrainedrelationship.”Honestly,IneverreallythoughtabouttheirrelationshiporthatIdon’thaveonewithher.Mygrandparentsonmydad’ssidearelikesupergrandparents,alwayssendingmepresentsonholidays,moneyatNewYear’s.OneofthereasonsmymomthinksIshouldapplytoschoolsinNewYorkCityistobeclosertowheretheyliveinNewJersey.
IfJaewoothinksitoddthatI’venevermetmygrandmotherinKorea,hedoesn’tsayanything.
“SoyouliveinKorea?”Iask.
“Yeah,I’moriginallyfromBusan,butIgotoschoolinSeoul.”Hepauses.“Aperformingartsschool.”
“Iknewit!”Ishout,andhegrins.“Decentatsinging.Please.”
Aswe’vebeenwalkingI’venoticedthatJaewookeepseyeingthefoodcarts.Catchinghisattention,IpointtoasmalltentedareawhereanolderwomanisservingtraditionalKoreanstreetfoodtoafewcustomersseatedonlowstools.“Howdoesseconddinnersoundtoyou?”
Hiseyeslightupanddimplesappearinhischeeks.“Likeyou’vereadmymind.”
WeheadoverandheholdsbackthetarpofthetentsothatIcanstepinside
“Eoseooseyo!”Thetentcartownerwelcomesusinaloudvoice,gesturingforustotakestoolssidebysideacrossthecounterfromher.“Whatwouldyoulike?”
Jaewoolooksatme,seeingasI’mtheonewiththemoney.“Getwhateveryouwant,”Itellhim.“Ilikeeverything.”
Asheplacestheorder,IunknotMrs.Kim’splasticbagofsidedishes.Insidearefivesmallplasticcontainers.Iputthemonthecounterbetweenusandtakethecoveroffeachone.
“You’vegotquitethehaul,”Jaewoosays,studyingmymovements.
Ifinishtakingoffthelastlidtorevealgarlicchiveskimchi.“Neverunderestimateafriendlyneighborhoodajumma.”
“Ah,Icanrelate.Mymom’sasinglemom,sowhileIwasgrowingup,theneighborhoodwomenwerealwayspesteringherandgivingherunsolicitedadvice,butthatdidn’tstopthemfromdroppingofffoodalmosteveryday.”
Ilaugh.“Koreanstrulyarethesameeverywhere.”
AndheandIarethesame,atleastinthatwewerebothraisedbysinglemothers.It’snotsouncommon,butitmakesmefeelclosertohimforsomereason.
Ireachforthewoodenchopsticksinacupholderfilledwiththem.IsnapapairapartandhanditovertoJaewoo.“You’reluckyyoubrokeyourleftarmandnotyourright.Ifyouareright-handed,thatis.”
“Iam.ThoughI’mnotsureifI’dcallmyselflucky.”
Ugh,yeah,thatwasinsensitiveofme.“Sorry—”Istarttoapologize.
“IfI’dbrokenmyrightarm,you’dhavetofeedme.”Hereachesoutwithhischopstickstopickupasliceofbraisedbeeffromthecontainerofjangjorim.
Ieyehim.Didhejustsaythat?Iglancearoundattheothertentcartpatrons,buttheonlyonepayingusanyattentionisagirlsittingwithafriendtotheleftofhim,outofhislineofsight.She’sbeenwatchinghimsinceweenteredthetent,presumablybecauseofhowgood-lookingheis.
“Yourfoodishere!”Thetentcartownerhandsthreedishesoverthecounter.Jaewoo’sorderedafewclassicpojangstaples:tteok-bokki,eomuk,andkimchipajeon—kimchipancakeswithgreenonions.Withalltheplatesandcontainersofbanchan,there’szerospaceonthetable.WehavetoplayTetriswiththedishesinordertomakethingsfit.
Asweeat,ourchopsticksreachforfoodandcrisscrossoneanother.Atonepoint,theowneroffersJaewooasmallcupofbrothandhereachesacrossmetoacceptit.Ashestands,hisshoulderbumpsmine.
“Sorry,”hesays.
“It’sfine,”Isay,thoughIfeelatinglingsensationwherehetouchedme.Likebefore,Ilookaroundattheotherpatrons,noticingthatthemajorityofthepeopleattheothertablesarecouples,flirtingoverfoodanddrinks.
Jaewoopushestheplateoftteok-bokkitowardme,andIseethathe’sleftmethelastpiece.Anyoneobservingusmightthinkwewereonadate.
BehindJaewoo,thegirlwhowasstaringearlierapproaches,alongwithherfriend.
IglanceatJaewoo,wonderingifIshouldwarnhim.Heprobablygetshitonbypeopleonaregularbasis.ThoughIwonderwhothesegirlsthinkIam?Whatifthiswereanactualdate?Aretheyreallyabouttoflirtwithhiminfrontofme?Forsomereason,Ihavethissuddenurgetoscowl.
“Hey,”thefirstgirlsays,“youlooksofamiliar.HaveIseenyousomewhere?”
ThecupJaewooisholdingstopsmidwaytohismouth.
Foramoment,noonespeaks.ThenIlookupandrealizethegirl’seyesareonme.
“YouwereattheAll-Statecompetitionlastweekend,weren’tyou?”shesays.“Isawyourperformance.Itwasincredible.”
Istareather.Idon’tknowwhattosay.I’vebeenpraisedbefore,usuallyfollowingperformances,butnoonehaseverapproachedmeoutoftheblue,asifIwereacelebrity.Jaewooslowlyputsdownhischopsticks.Proppinghisgoodelbowonthecounter,herestshischeekagainsthishandashewatchesformyreaction.
Iwaveoffhercompliment.“Thankyou.”
“Seriously,mymother,whowasacellistfortheLosAngelesPhilharmonic,saidyou’reverytalented.”
“Idon’tknowwhattosay—”Istart,thencutoffwhenImeettheeyesofthesecondgirl.“Eunice.”
EuniceKim,Sookie’sdaughter.SheglancesatthecounterandIhavethiswildpremonitionthatshe’llyellatmeforsharinghermom’scookingwithaboy
“Hey,Jenny.I’msurprisedtoseeyououtonaFridaynight.”Shesmiles,andit’ssubtle,butshelooksabithurt.“You’realwayssobusy.Ididn’tthinkyouhadtimetohangout.”
“Oh,”Isay,“yeah,itjustturnedoutthatway.”CouldIbemoreawkward?It’sjustthatwehaven’treallyspokenmuchinthepastfiveyears,andbeforethat,wewerepracticallyinseparable.
“Anyway,wegottago,”Eunice’sfriendtugsatherarm.“Enjoyyourmeal!”
Eunicethrowsmeonelastglance.“Bye,Jenny.”Theyleavethetent.
Intheawkwardsilencethatfollows,Isayhurriedly,“Weusedtobefriendswhenwewereyounger.ButthenIstartedtobecomemoreseriousaboutcelloand…”
Idon’tknowwhyI’mtellinghimthis.It’slikewhiplash,onegirltellingmehowgreatIaminfrontofhim,onlyforanothertorevealI’mactuallyaterriblefriend.
Jaewooleansbackfromthetable.“Somethingsimilarhappenedwithme.WhenImovedtoSeoulfromBusan,someofmyfriendsbackhomethoughtIwasasellout.”
“Wow.”Idon’treallyknowmuchaboutcitiesoutsideSeoul,butIguesstheequivalentwouldbesomeonemovingfromtheirhometowntoNewYorkCity.
“Soyou’reacellist,”hesays.
“Yeah.”
“Wasthatalwaysyourdream?Tobeacellist.”
“Sortof.Mydadplayedthecello.Hewasn’taprofessionaloranything,butwhenitcametimetochooseaninstrument,ariteofpassageforallAsianAmericankids—”
Jaewoolaughs.
“Mydad’scellowasthereand,yeah,Iendedupreallylovingit.It’salsobeennicehavingthatconnectiontohim.”
ThisisthemostI’veopenedupaboutmydadtoanyone.Iwaitforthatsenseofsadness,thatfamiliarpain,butallIfeeliscomfort.Fiveyearsisn’talongorshorttime,butitistime.
IlookatJaewoo.Whatisitabouthimthatmakesmewanttoopenuptohim?IsitbecauseIknowIwon’tseehimagainaftertonightorforanotherreasonentirely;thatwithhim,Icanbemyself?
“That’sreallycool,”Jaewoosays.Whenhesmiles,Ifeelmyheartmeltalittle.
“Whataboutyou?”Iask,hopingthedimlightingbeneaththetentwillmaskmyblush.“Doyouhaveanydreams?”
Anindecipherableexpressionflitsacrosshisface,goneinasecond.“Idon’tsleepenoughfordreaming.”
“Wow,”Idrawl,“whatananswer.”
Hewinks.
Ontheothersideofthetent,agroupofpeopleenter.Iglanceatmyphonetoseethatit’saquartertomidnightalready.JaewoohandsoverouremptyplatestothetentcartownerasIstarttocoverandpacktheleftoversidedishes.Aswestand,Iliftmyheadandmakeeyecontactwithaguydirectlyacrossfromme.
It’stherudeguyfromthebus.He’ssurroundedbyhiscollegefriends,mostofwhomarejostlingforaseatatthecounter.
“Whataretheoddsherecognizesus?”IsaytoJaewoo,who’snoticedthedirectionofmygaze.
Atthatmomentthecollegeguypointsatus,likewe’reinsomesortofactionmovieandJaewooandIarecriminals.
“I’dsayverylikely.”Five
Idon’tknowwhomovesfirstorwhywebothjumptothesameconclusion,butwemakearunforit.
Neitherofuslooksbackaswesprintbackthewaywecame,pastthefoodcarts,makingasharprightintoanofficebuildinganddownaflightofstairs.
Herewestoptocatchourbreaths.Thebasementlevelappearstobeashoppingcenter.Mostofthebusinessesareclosed—anailsalon,severalretailstores,andalunchboxshop—butafewarestillopen,includingatwenty-four-hourspaandanarcade.
“There!”Ipointtoafreestandingphotobooth,oneofthosestickerboothswhereforacoupledollarsyoucantakephotoswithcutebackgroundsthatarethenprintedonthespot.
JaewoopullsmeinsideandIclosethecurtainbehindus.Inthedarkness,ourfacesilluminatedbytheneonfluorescentlightgivenoffbythetouchscreen,westareateachother.
“Whydidwerun?”heasks.
“I—Idon’tknow.”
Heblinks.Iblink.Thenwebothstarttolaugh.Whydidwerun?Therereallywasnoreasonto.It’snotasifthosecollegekidswouldhaveactuallybeatenusup—wewereinapublicspace,withadults.Still,itwasexciting.Myheartisstillracingfromtheadrenaline.Ormaybebecause,shovedintothissmallspace,I’mpracticallyinhislap.
Werephotoboothsalwaysthistiny?He’spressedallthewayupagainstthefarwall,onthebenchwithhislonglegsdiagonalacrosstheentiretyofthebooth.Oneofmylegsisproppedbeneathme,theotherdrapedoverhis.Ihaveonehandgrippingtheedgeoftheseatandtheotherpressedflatagainstthebackwall.
“Howtallareyou?”Iblurtout.
“Onehundredeighty-twocentimeters.”
Right.IforgotnearlyallothercountriesbesidestheUSusethemetricsystem.
Hisbrowfurrows.“Ithinkthat’sfivefooteleven?”
“Youjustcalculatedthatinyourhead?”
Heshrugs.“Howtallareyou?”
“Fivesix.Idon’tknowwhatthatisincentimeters.”
Henodsslightly.Onthetouchscreen,theadforthephotoboothplaysonrepeat,showingsmilingfacesofgroupsofpeopleintwosandthrees,andafewalone.
Headjuststheslingofhiscast,tighteningthestrap.
“Howdidyoubreakyourarm?”Iask.
“Anaccident.”
“Hadyoueverbrokenabonebefore?”
“Once,whenIwasakid.”Hestopsfiddlingwithhisslingandlooksup.“Haveyou?”
“No.”Itdoesn’tescapemethat,asacellist,abrokenarmwouldhavefeltliketheendoftheworld.“Doesithurt?”
“Notasmuchasthefirsttime.”
Ihavetobitemyliptokeepfromaskingmorequestions.Hehasn’tbeenexactlyforthcomingaboutthedetailsofhislife.Still,Iwanttoknow—why?Whydoesithurtlessthistimethanthetimebefore?Becauseit’sadifferentbone?Becauseheknewwhattoexpectashe’dbeenhurtbefore?
Iwanttoknowmore.Whatkindofaccidentwashein?Isthatthereasonhewasrunningaway?
Unlikeinthekaraokeroomandatthefestival,we’recloseenoughthatIcanseethedetailsofhisface.Hisskinthat’salmosttooflawless—ishewearingmakeup?—hisbeautifullyshapedeyesaccentuatedbydarkshadow,hisred,redlips.
Eitherthat’sliptintorhekissedsomeonewhowaswearingit,andIdon’tknowwhichI’dprefer.
That’salie,Idon’twanthimtohavekissedanyoneelse.
Imovecloser,myfingersgrippinghisshoulder.Heshiftstoaccommodateme,hisgoodhandslidingagainstmyback.Hisfaceissoclosetomine,hisbreathonmylips.
There’saloudbangassomeoneknocksontheoutsideofthephotobooth.
“Hello-o!Areyoudoneinthere?Wewanttotakeaphoto.”
Ipracticallyleapacrossthebooth,whichisn’tthatimpressiveofafeat,consideringit’ssotiny.
“Middleschoolers,”Isay,breathless.Theirvoicesaretoohightobelongtothecollegestudents.Ireachforthecurtain.
“Wait…”
Iturnback.
Jaewoo’slookingatthetouchscreen.“Shouldwetakeaphoto?”
Islowlysitbackdown.“Sure.”Ican’treallythinkclearlysoIclickonafewbuttonsandsoonfoursnapshotsgooffinquicksuccession.ForthefirsttwoImustlooklikeadeerintheheadlights,butImanageasmileforthelasttwo.Afterward,thereareoptionstoaddbordersanddesignstothephotos,butIjustclickprint.
Outsidethebooth,we’remetwiththejudgmentalstaresofaposseofsixthgraders.
“Youbrokethemachine,”oneinformsme,andwhenIchecktheprinter,Iseethatshe’snotwrong.PrintingErrorappearsonthelittlereadoutdisplay.Itdidprintatleastoneofthetwocopiesthough.
ThemiddleschoolersheadtowardthearcadeandIbringmyprizeovertoJaewoo.“Itonlyprintedone.”
“I’lltakeaphotoofit,”hesays,reachingintohisjacketandpullingoutaphone.
Asitturnsonitimmediatelystartstopingandvibratewithmessages.
Helookstroubled,hislipsthinningslightly.Thenheflipshisphoneoverandthefront-facingcameraissmashed.“Iforgotaboutthis.Itmusthavehappenedearlier,whenIbrokemyarm.”
“Whydon’tItakeaphotoofitandsendittoyou?”Ioffer.
“Yeah,maybethat’sbetter.”Hepocketshisphoneandacceptsminefrommyhand,plugginginhisnumber.
WhenItakeitback,Iseethathe’sadded+82forthecountrycallingcodetoSouthKorea.
Weheaduptheescalatorandoutontothemainstreet.
Hepatsthepocketofhisjacketwherehisphoneisstillvibrating.“They’llbeheresoon,nowthattheycantrackmyphone.They’reprobablycirclingthearea,waitingforme.”
Thatsounds…ominous.“Can’tyouturnyourphoneoffagain?”
“Ithinkit’stimeIgoback.”
“Areyoureallyokay?”Iask.
Hesmiles,asweetsmile.“Iamnow.”
Myheartstutters.
“Whataboutyou?”Hepeersdownthestreet.It’smostlydeserted,thefestivalhavingended.“It’spastmidnight.”
“Myunclejusttexted,”Ilie.“He’scomingtopickmeup.”Icanwalkthefewblocksbacktothekaraokebar,whichdoesn’tcloseuntilthree,orIcancallarideshare.
Downthestreet,avanwithblackoutwindowsapproaches.Grippingmywristgently,Jaewooleadsmetoashadowedareabeneaththeawningofabuilding.“Waithere.Idon’twantthemtoseeyou.”
“Jaewoo,I’mworried.”
Myvoicecatchesandhelooksatme.“It’snotwhatyou’rethinking.I’lltextyouassoonasIcan.”Thenheadds,withasmileIdon’tthinkI’lleverforget,“Thanks,Jenny.Ihadagreattimewithyoutonight.”
Pivoting,hewalksfrombeneaththeshadows.Thevan,whichhadbeenslowlydrivingdownthestreetspeedsup,stoppingrightbythecurb.Thebackdoorslidesopen,andIgetaglimpseofanotherboyinsidebeforeitslamsshutbehindJaewoo.
Asthevanpullsawayfromthecurb,Istepfromtheshadows.IwatchuntilIcannolongermakeouttheshapeofitontheroad,swallowedupbythelightsofthecity.Six
Thestickerpictureisaseriesoffoursmallphotographsprintedverticallyintheordertheyweretaken.Inthetoppicture,I’mfrowningatthecamerawhileJaewoo,hisbackagainstthecornerofthebooth,hashiseyesclosed,inthemiddleofablink.Inthesecondpicture,they’reopenandhehasasmallsmileonhisface.I’mstillfrowning.
Thethirdpicturecameoutwell.We’rebothsmilingandlookingatthecamera.IrememberhowI’dheldmyexpressioninplace,determinedtokeepmysmilefromwaveringandmyeyesopen.I’mrelievedtofindImanagedtodoboth—Ilooknormal.Pretty,even.
AsforJaewoo,he’snolongerleaningagainstthebackofthewall,butsittingslightlyforward.Hisheadistilted,andhiseyesaren’tonthecameraanymore.He’slookingatme,hisexpressioncaughtbetweenasmileandalaugh.
Ifeelmyheartgivealiteralflutterinmychest.
Pullingoutmyphone,Isnapaphotoofthephoto,thentakeitagainwhenitappearswashedoutagainstmykitchentable.
WhenI’msatisfied,IopenupthenumberJaewoosavedinmyphone.
Here’sthephotographfromtonight.Itext.Btw,thisisJenny.Ihitsend.
There.That’sstraightforward.Casual.
Immediatelymytextsaremarked“read”andthreedotsappear.He’styping!Washewaitingformytext?Alsowhydoeshehavehisreadreceiptson?
Amessageappears.Jumpingonaplane.TextyouwhenIland.
He’sflyingouttonight?IknewhewasfromSeoul,butIdidn’tthinkhewasleavingsosoon.
Okay.Haveasafeflight!
Mymessageismarked“read,”then…
Thanks
Ohmygod,hesentanemoji.Howcute!
Footstepsapproachthefrontdooroftheapartment,keysjinglingforthelock.Iquicklypocketthephotoasmymomwalksthroughthedoor.
Sheglancesatmesittingatthekitchentablebeforeslidingoffhershoes,“You’restillawake?”Shehangshercoatinthecloset,slippingonapairofhouseslippers—mine,infact.It’saneasymistake;we’rethesamesize.Sameshoesize,sameheight,sameoval-shapedface.Peoplealwayscommentonhowmuchwelookalike.
“Ithoughtyouwereworkingonacasetonight,”Isay.Usuallyontheweekendsshetakesextracasesandsleepsovernightattheoffice.AsanimmigrationlawyerinLA,she’sbusyalot.
“Changeofplans.”Shestartsacrossthekitchen,thenstops,doingadoubletake.IrealizeI’mstillintheclothesIworetoschoolthismorning.“Didyoujustgethome?”
ForamomentIblank,unsurewhetherornottotellherhowIspentmynight.
“Bomihadaprojectdue,”Isayfinally,“soIstayedlatetohelpoutUncleJay.Hegavemearidehome.”Thelastpartistrue,ifnotthefirst.
Ifeelabitguilty.Ihardlyeverlietomymother;there’snoreasonto.Weliterallyhavethesamegoal:formetogotomusicschoolinNewYorkCity.Andforthepastfiveyears,it’sjustbeenus,andUncleJay.
ButifItellher,Iknowshe’llworrythatI’mnotfocusedenoughorthatI’llbedistracted;wehaven’thadthe“dating”talk,butit’sheavilyimpliedthatIshouldwaituntilcollege.
Sheheadsovertothericecookerandpopsitopen,sighingwhenshefindsitempty.
“Youdidn’teatattheoffice?”Iask.
“Notime.”
IpointtothecounterwhereIlefttheHMartgrocerybag.“Mrs.Kimgaveussomebanchan,ifyouwanttoeatthat.There’sjangjorim.”It’sherfavorite.
Momclickshertongue.“Mrs.Kimshouldmindherownbusiness.Shecanbesonosy.”
“Well,Ithinkit’sniceofher.”
“Don’ttellmeshedidn’tslideinasnidecommentaboutmyparenting.”
Itrytothinkbacktowhatshesaid,buthonestlycan’tremember.“There’salsojapchae.”
“Fine.Canyoumakerice?I’mgoingtotakeashower.And,actually,sinceyou’reawake,there’ssomethingIwanttotalktoyouabout.”
Whensomeoneannouncestheywanttotalktome,Ialwaysgetnervous.Like,justsayit.Idon’tliketheanticipationofthinkingitcouldbesomethingbad.ButMomknowsnottospringanythingseriousonme,notafterDad.
“Sure,”Isay,andsheheadsoffinthedirectionofherbedroom.Ourroomsareatoppositeendsoftheapartment,whichistosay,they’realmostrightnexttoeachother.
Ipourtwocupsofriceintoabowlandwashoutthegrainsinwater,thendumpthewholethingintothecooker.
Afterward,Igrabamelonbarfromthefridgeandsitatthetable,googlinghowlongittakestoflyfromLAXtoSeoul.
Fourteenhours.
ThenIgooglewhatthetimedifferenceisbetweenKoreaandCalifornia.
Koreaissixteenhoursahead.
Momwalksintothekitcheninabathrobetwentyminuteslater,herhairwrappedneatlyinatowel.
Whenthericecookerpings,shescoopsupriceintoabowlandsitsacrossfrommeatthetable.
Shedoesn’tcommentonthelowlevelsofbanchaninthecontainers,soIrefrainfromenlighteningher.
“IgotacallfromSeoulthismorning,”shebegins,“about…mymother.”
Isitupinmyseat.“She’sokay,isn’tshe?”JusttonightImentionedmygrandmotherinKoreatoJaewoo.Imighthavenevermether,butshe’sstillfamilyandIdon’twantanythingbadtohappentoher.
“She’sfine,”Momassuresme.“Asfineassomeonewithcoloncancercanbe.Itwasherdoctorwhocalled.Hethinksshemightbehealthyenoughtogetsurgeryinafewmonths,butshe’srefusing.Itwon’tbeforawhileyet,andshestillneedscarefulmonitoring,butIthoughtIcouldgotoSeoulforafewmonths,spendtimewithherandconvincehertogetthesurgery.”
Ahundredthoughtspassthroughmymind.Mygrandmotherhascancer,adifferentkindthanmyfather,butshe’ssick.AndmymomisgoingtoSeoultotakecareofher.Withoutme.
“IalreadycalledJay,”Momcontinues,“andhesaidyoucouldstaywithhimfortherestoftheschoolyear.IshouldbebackbyJuly.”
“You’regoingtoleavemeuntilJuly?”Icanhearmyvoicerising.“It’sNovembernow.”
“No,”shesayscalmly.“Iwouldn’tflyoutuntilafterthenewyear.LikelyendofFebruary.There’sstillsomeworkthingsIneedtotakecareof.”
I’mstilltryingtoprocesswhat’shappening.Mymother’sleavingmeinthemiddleofmyjunioryear.“Whatabouttheendoftheyearperformance.It’sinMay.”
“Therewillbemoreperformances.Jenny,mymotherneedsme.”
Ineedyou.Ialmostsayit,aloud,butIdon’t.IfItellherIneedhershe’llonlyaskmewhy,andIcan’texplainitbeyondthesimplefactthatI’llmissher.
“Iwouldn’thavedecidedonthisifIdidn’tbelieveyouwouldbeallright.”
“But,Mom—”
“IfsomethinghappenstoherandI’mnotthere,I’llneverforgivemyself.”
Game.Set.Match.BecauseIcan’targuewiththat.Iwouldfeelthesame;Ihavefeltthesame.
“Soyou’llbeinKorea,”Isay,andIsoundexhaustedeventomyownears,“That’sasixteenhourtimedifference.”
“I—wait,howdoyouknowthat?”
“Itdoesn’tmatter.”Istandup.IhavesomemorechoicewordsIcouldsaytomymother,butasIstudyher,theangerinsidemedeflates.ShelooksastiredasIfeel,darkcirclesbeneathhereyes,andshe’snoteveneatinganymore,whichisthegreatestindicatorthatshe’snotherusualself.
Iofferanolivebranch.“Well,atleastyou’llbeherethroughtheholidays.Andthen,wow,Seoul,huh?Youhaven’tbeentherefor,what,sixyears?”Andeventhen,onlytheonetimesinceshefirstcametotheUSonastudentvisa.Shestayedaftermarryingmydad.
“Seven,”Momsighs.Shemustfeelalittlebetterbecauseshereachesforasliceofmungbeanpancake.“I’vebeenputtingitoffforlongenough.It’sabouttimeIgoback.”
I’malmostlateformynineo’clockcellolessonthenextmorning,havingnotgonetobeduntilwellaftertwo.WhenIgetthere,IfumbleoversomanynotesthatEunbi,myteacher,stopsmeinthemiddleofmysolopieceforschool.
“Icantellsomething’sbotheringyou,”shesays.“Isittheresultsfromthecompetition?”
It’swildtothinkthatlessthantwenty-fourhoursago,theanswerwouldhavebeenyes.I’mstillupsetaboutwhatthejudgessaid,butalsothejudgesaren’tmymother,andthey’renotabandoningmeformonthsonend.
“Here,letmegetyousometea,thenwe’lltalk.”Ileavethepianobenchtositononeofthewingbackchairsinherlivingroom.Wedon’tdothisoften,butsometimeswe’llskipalessontocatchuponthingsoutsidecello.Thefirsttime,shesatmedown,pointedtomyhead,myheart,andmyhands,andsaid,“They’reallconnected.”Idon’tthinkIquiteunderstoodthen—Iwaseleven—butIthinkIdonow.Nopracticeandtalentcanovercomeatroubledmindandheart.
Shereturnsandhandsmeamugofbarleytea,takingtheseatopposite.“I’mallears.”
Itellhereverything,startingwithmymom’scallwiththedoctorandherdecisiontoleavemebehind.
Eunbilistenscarefully,asshedoeswhenIplayforher,withherwholeattention.Andmaybeit’sbecauseofthat,butIsortofdumpallmyfeelingsontoher.
“Shejusttoldmewhatherplansare.Shedidn’tevenaskmewhatIthoughtaboutit.She’sliterallyabandoningmeinthemiddleofmyjunioryear.”
Eunbitakesasipofhertea.“Didyouaskifyoucouldgowithher?”
Iblink,takenaback.“Ididn’tthinkitwasanoption.Ihaveschool…andshe’sgoingtobethereforfivemonths.”
“ThereareperformingartsschoolsinSeoul,”shesays,notunreasonably,andI’mremindedthatshewenttooneherselfbeforegraduatingfromEwhaWomansUniversitywithadegreeinclassicalcello.“It’sonlyamatterofforwardingyourmaterialstoonethattakesinternationalstudents.”
I’mstilltryingtoprocessthepossibilityofthis.Ithadn’tevenoccurredtome,thatImightgowithmymother,thatImightfinishmyjunioryearinanothercountry.
I’veneverbeenoutsideCalifornia,letalonetraveledtoSouthKorea.Idon’tevenknowanyonewholivesthere,besidesmygrandmother.
Well,that’snottrue.
Iknowoneotherperson.
“AfriendofmineisthedirectorofamusicschoolinSeoul,”Eunbisays.“Ifyousendoveryourauditionmaterials,Icanemailherarecommendation.TheacademicyearinKoreastartsinMarch,soyouwouldn’tbearrivinginthemiddleoftheirschoolyear.”
“Ishouldaskmymom,shouldn’tI?”Bynow,shewouldhavelefttheapartmentforwork.
“Maybebringituptoherafteryou’vedonealittlemoreresearch?Fornow,youcangettheballrolling.You’llneedapassport,ifyouhaven’tonealready.”
Ido,infact.Lastyear,IwassupposedtotraveltoPariswithmyFrenchclassbuthadtocancelwhenIgottheflu.
“Youlookoverwhelmed.”Eunbitakesbackthemugoftea,whichI’vebarelytouched.“Whydon’tyousight-readMozart,thenwe’llcallitaday.You’vealottothinkabout.”
That’sanunderstatement.Butalso—doIhavemoretothinkabout?
Myheartisracing.Mypalmsaresweating.
Ifanyoneweretoaskmenow:DoyouwanttogowithyourmomtoKorea?Doyouwanttoseethegrandmotheryou’venevermet?DoyouwanttospendaseasoninSeoul,acityyou’veneverbeento,wherebothsidesofyourfamilyoriginallyimmigratedfrom,withendlesspossibilitiesfornewadventuresandexperiences?
Theanswerwouldbearesoundingyes
AllmorningI’vebeengooglingthingsaboutKorea,andSeoulspecifically.Apparentlyithasapopulationofalmosttenmillionpeople,whichismorethanNewYorkCity.
WhenIlookupmygrandmother’saddress,IfindoutshelivesintheJongnoDistrictofSeoul,wherealotofhistoricalsitesarelocated,likeGyeongbokgungPalaceandBukchonHanokVillage.ShealsolivesrightaroundtheblockfromaParisBaguette.I’mexploringtheareathroughsatelliteimagingwhenEunbitextsmealink.IclickonitandthewebsiteforSeoulArtsAcademypopsuponmycomputer.
Thecampusisabsolutelybreathtaking,withstate-of-the-artfacilities,practicerooms,atwo-storylibrary,anddormitoriesacrossfromanewlyrenovatedstudentcenter,plusaworld-renownedconcerthall.
AfteranhourofbrowsingIdozeoff,onlytobewokenupbymyalarm.IsetitthismorningwhenIcalculatedthatafourteen-hourflightwouldarriveataroundthreep.m.mytime.Whichmeansit’saroundeighta.m.inSeoul.
IopenupthechatwithJaewooandtype.Didyouarrivesafely?Whenthemessageisn’tmarked“read,”IassumeeitherImiscalculatedthearrivaltimeorhedoesn’thaveserviceforsomereason.
“Jenny?”Thefrontdoorshutswithabanginthehall.“I’mhome.”
Idropmyphoneonthebedandfollowmymomfromthehalltothekitchen.
Surprisingly,shedoesn’timmediatelyrejecttheideaofmytaggingalongwithheronhertriptoSeoul.
“Therearedormsattheschool.IcanstaythereduringtheweekandvisityouandHalmeoniontheweekends.”
“Whatabouttuition?”She’saskinglogicalquestions.Thisisagoodsign.
“Waived,ifIcangetascholarship,andEunbisaysIhaveagoodchanceasaclassicalcellist.”
Shesighs.“You’vereallyworkedthisallout,haven’tyou?”
“Idon’tseewhyIhavetostayifI’llgetasstronganeducationthereasIdohere.Maybeevenstronger.ItisAsia.”Ilaughandsheshakesherhead.AndI’llbewithyou.ThislastthoughtIdon’tsayaloud.Mymotherwasneverthelovey-doveyparent.
Isayinstead,“IwanttoseeHalmeoni.”
Momdoesn’tspeakforawholeminute,butthenshenods,“She’llwanttoseeyoutoo.”
Ican’tbelievethatwithintwenty-fourhours,mylifehaschangedsodrastically.I’mgoingtoliveinSeoulforfivemonths.
Backinmyroom,Icheckmyphone.Thetextisnowmarked“read”butthere’snoresponse.
ThisiswhyIdon’tlikereadreceipts.It’slikepsychologicalwarfare.HeknowsIknowthathereadmymessageandchosenottorespond.
Ofcourse,maybeI’mjustreadingtoomuchintoit.Hecouldbetextingbacksomeonemoreimportantthanme,likehismom.
Don’ttellmeyouwerestoppedatcustomsduetogang-relatedactivity.Iquicklytype,thensend,andimmediatelyregretit.Thisiswhypeoplethinkbeforetheyact!That’snotevenagoodjoke!
Themessagegoesfrom“sent”to“read.”
Istareatmyphone.Aminutepasses.Thenanother.Ifeelastrangesinkinginmystomach.
Ithinkofallthepossiblereasonsthatmightkeephimfromresponding.Hehasabadconnection(highlyunlikelyasSouthKoreahasthefastestinternetontheplanet,accordingtoGoogle).Heisgoingthroughcustoms(butthenwhydidn’thejustsendatext?Itonlytakesafewseconds).Orthere’sanotherreasonthatIcan’tthinkof,butwhatcoulditpossiblybe?
Igooglewhyaboymightreadyourtextsbutnotrespond.Allofthearticlessaythesamething:He’sjustnotthatintoyou.
Wow,thanksinternet.
Evenso,it’snotlikeonetextisacommitment.Ithrowmyphoneacrossthebedandheadovertomycellotopractice.IfIcan’tgetaboytoanswermeback,atleastIcangetaschoolto.
ThefollowingMonday,ItalktomyguidancecounselorabouttransferringforhalftheyearandhegivesmealistofrequiredclassesIneedforgraduation,mostofwhichSeoulArtsAcademyfulfills.ThefewthatIwon’tbeabletotakeattheschoolIcantakeonlinefromLACHSA.It’salmostasifI’llbeattendingtwoschoolsatthesametime,takingclasseslikeAPLitandAPHistorythroughLosAngelesCountyHighSchoolfortheArts,andmyperformingartsclassesthroughSeoulArtsAcademy.
Ofcourse,Ifirsthavetogetin,butIthink,foronce,nepotismwillpullthroughforme.AndIhavethegradesandawardstoprovemyselfastrongcandidate.
Luckily,mypremonitionturnsouttruebecausebyDecember,I’mnotonlyacceptedintoSeoulArtsAcademy,butgivenfullroomandboard.Theyalsooffermeascholarshipthatcovershalfmytuition.
TheonlydisappointmentthroughoutthiswholethingisthatJaewooneverrespondedtomytexts.IfeellikeIspendmoretimewonderingaboutthereasonswhythanplanningmytriptoSeoul.
Ijustneedtoacceptwhattheinternetwaskindenoughtotellme,hejustwasn’tfeelingit.
It’struethatIwastheonewhoapproachedhiminthekaraokebar.Iwastheonewhogotusintothescufflethatforcedustojumpoffthebus.
Still,itwouldhavebeennicetohaveafriend.
Idon’tevenknowwhatschoolhegoesto.
Idecidetotexthimonelasttime,thedaythatIleave.Hey,so,I’mactuallygoingtobeinKoreaforacoupleofmonthstovisitmygrandmother.Ifyou’rearound,I’dlovetoseeyou.There.Straightforward.Thetruthis,Idon’tlikeplayinggames.Lifeistooshort.It’sbettertospeakyourmind,otherwiseyou’llonlyfeelregretlater.
Hedoesn’trespond,andhonestly,Idon’texpecthimto.
UncleJaydrivesmymomandmetotheairport.He’llbelookingafterourapartmentwhilewe’reaway.
Outsidesecurity,hehugsmymomandthenturnstome,rufflingmyhair.“Havefun,kiddo.”
“Thanks,UncleJay.”
JustafewmonthsagohesaidthatIneededtotrynewthings,livealittle.
Well,I’mtakingyouradvice,UncleJay.I’mabouttolivemyverybestlife.Seven
MymomandIarriveatIncheonInternationalAirportat4:55a.m.Afterpassingthroughcustoms,wepickupourluggagefrombaggageclaimandheadovertothemoneyexchangekiosktoswapafewbillsbeforeleavingtheterminal.Inneedofcaffeine,wejoinashortlineoutsideoneofthefewbusinessesopenatfiveinthemorning—Dunkin’Donuts.Butit’sdifferentthanintheStates.BesidesthefactthateverythingiswritteninKorean,theinteriorisbrighterandthemenuhasmorefoodoptions.Alsothedonutsaresomehow…cuter.
“Ithinkthecabdriverishere,”Momsays.
Ilookovertowhereanolderwell-dressedgentlemaninwhiteglovesholdsasignboardwiththenamesSusieandJennywrittenuponitinEnglish.
Aftermakingourpurchases—Momgetsanextradrinkforthedriver—wefollowhimoutsidetoataxiwhereheexpertlyfitsourfourbagsofluggageinthetrunk.I’mgladformythickpufferjacket,whichIzipupallthewaybeforegettingintothecar.Thoughit’salmostMarch,it’saboutthirtydegreescoolerherethaninLA.
MommakesconversationwiththedriverwhileIstareoutthewindowatthefoggymorningfreeway.
Accordingtothetaxidriver’sGPS,it’lltakeanhourandahalftodrivefromtheairport—whichislocatedinIncheon,acityrightoutsideSeoul—tomygrandmother’shouse.Atonepoint,wecrossoveralongbridgeandthedrivertellsusthatthebodyofwaterbeneathusistheYellowSea.
Ifallasleephalfwaythroughtheride,startlingawakewhenthedriverhonksatascooterthatcutsinfrontofthecab.
Atsomepoint,wemusthavecrossedintoSeoul.Therearemorecarsontheroad,andthestreetswe’redrivingdownarelinedwithtallbuildingsandsignboardsinKorean,withafewinEnglish.Wepassanentrancetoasubwaystation.Peopledressedinbusinessclothingenterandexitbyescalatorsorbystairs,movinginaquickbutorderlyfashion.WeleftonaWednesdayinLA,butit’saFridaymorninginSeoul.Atanintersection,Icountatleastsixcafés,fourbeautyshops,andthreecellphonestores.
Afterfivehundredmeters,accordingtotheGPS,thedriverturnsofffromthemainroadintoaseriesofnarrowerstreetsofresidentialapartments,mostlywalk-ups.Thecabpullsupinfrontofanolderbuildingwithasmallconveniencestoreonthefirstfloor,acrossfromaflowershopandatinycafé.Mompaysthedriverandweleavemostofourluggageonthestreet,bringinguponlymycelloandourcarry-ons.
Momisquiet,whichisodd,asshewaspositivelytalkativewiththedriver.Afterringingthebuzzer,shegripsherelbowswithherhands,asuresignthatshe’snervous.Thisisthefirsttimeshe’sseenhermothersinceshewenttoSeoulforaweddingalmostsevenyearsago.Andshe’dbeenwithDadthen.
Thedooropens.
Idon’tknowwhatIexpectfrommeetingmygrandmotherinreallife.Mygrandparentsonmydad’ssideofthefamilyarealotlikemydad,sweetandfunny,withafondnessforhardliquor.
IknewmymomhadastrainedrelationshipwithhermotherbutIthoughtthatwasjustbecauseofphysicaldistance,andmymom’s,well,personality.Shedoesn’twasteemotionsonthingsthataren’tstrictlybeneficialtoher,orme.Onlymydadcouldbringoutadifferentsideofher.
IfsomeoneweretoaskwhatIthoughtmygrandmotherwouldbelike,I’dsayshewasprobablysimilartoMom—powerful,intimidating,andno-nonsense.
“Soojung-ah!”Halmeonicries,callingmymotherbyherKoreanname.
Momstandsstifflyashermotherthrowsherarmsaroundher.She’ssotiny,shehastotiptoeinherhouseslippers.
Shelookslikethesweetestgrandmotherintheworld.
“Comein!Comein!”Sheushersusintoherhome,pushingasidetheshoesthatarelaidneatlyinrowsbytheentranceway.“AndthismustbeJenny.”Shegrabsmyhands;hersarewarmandsoft.“Sobeautiful,”shesays,andIfeelarushofwarmthinsidebecausenoonehasevercalledmethatbefore,andshesoundssosincere.“Howoldareyou?”
“I’mseventeenyearsold.”
“Eomma,”Momsays.“Westillhaveluggageoutside.”
“Iwillcallmylandlord.Helivesdownstairs.He’llbringitup.”Sheaddstome.“Healwayshelpsmewithmygroceries.”
Shelooksyoungforagrandmother,butthatmakessensebecausemymomwasyoungwhenshehadme.Shehasshortpermedhair,shotwithstreaksofgrayandawarm,sunnydisposition.Whenshesmiles,hereyescrinkleatthecorners,andit’sthemostadorablething.
Thiswholetimewe’vebeenconversinginKoreanandI’mthankfulthatMomforcedmetostickwithKoreanclassinsteadofquittinglikeIwantedtoinsecondgrade.
“It’sfine,Eomma,”Momsays.“Jenny’sstrong.”
MomnodsatmeandIraceoutthedoortobringuptheluggagewhilesheunpacksintheonlyotherbedroomintheapartment.Ittakesmefourtrips,butImanagetobringthemallup.BythetimeI’mfinished,Halmeonihaslaidoutbreakfastonthesmalltableinthekitchen.Toastslatheredwithbutter,sunny-side-upeggs,andgrilledspam.Thebreadforthetoastmustbefromabakerybecauseit’sthickandfluffy,theeggsarecookedtoperfection,andthespamissaltyandsweet.ThelastmealIhadwasontheplane,andI’mstarving.Iinhalethefoodwhilemygrandmotherpeelsanapplenexttome,noddingencouragingly.
AfterMomfinishesunpacking,sheheadsovertothesmalltable,andIstandsoshecansitononeofthetwochairs.
“CanIgooutandexploretheneighborhood?”IaskmymominEnglish.
Halmeonilooksupwhereshe’sbegunpeelinganotherapple.“Doesn’tshewanttounpack?”sheasksmymom.
“Jenny’snotstaying,”Momexplains.“Theschoolshe’sattendinghasdormitories.She’smovinginthedayaftertomorrow.”
“Ah.”Halmeoninodsknowingly,“Chelliseuteu.”Cellist.Stillholdingtheappleandknife,sheraisestwothumbs.“Meosisseo.”Verycool.
Reachingbehindher,shegrabsapieceofpaperandwritesdown1103*—thecodetothekeypadoftheapartment—slippingitintomyhandsalongwithseveralman-won,roughlytheequivalentoften-dollarbills.
WhileIsearchmysuitcaseformyankleboots,mygrandmaexpressesconcernaboutmegoingoutintothecityalone.She’sneverbeentoSeoul.Shedoesn’tknowthearea.Whatifshegetslost?
“Don’tworry,Eomma,”Momreassuresher,“Jennyisverysmart,andshecanreadandconverseinKorean.Shealsohashercellphone.”
“Areyousure?”Shesoundsrelieved.“Shemustbeindependent,likeyou.”
Mymotherdoesn’tanswerforafewseconds.“Yes,Eomeoni,”shesays,finally.“Jenny’shadtogrowupfast,likeme.”
Alookpassesbetweenthem,andIedgetowardthedoor.Whatevertheyneedtoworkthrough,it’sbetterifI’mnotaround.
Myfirststopisthecaféacrossthestreettoloaduponsomecaffeine.AchimetwinkleswhenIopenthedoor.Whennoonecomesouttogreetme,Ileisurelymovearoundthesmallspace,whichisabouthalfthesizeofthefoyerinJay’sKaraoke.Naturallightcomesthroughtheeastern-facingwindow,gildingtheplethoraoffreshflowersonthesill,presumablyfromtheflowershopnextdoor.Smallpersonaltouchesmakethecaféseemhomelyandpleasant.Jazzplaysfromaspeakerinthecorner.
“Sorry,Ididn’tknowanyonecamein.”Ayoungathletic-lookingguyinanapronstepsthroughthecurtain.
ThenInoticewhathe’swearing.“YougototheManhattanSchoolofMusic?”IaskinEnglish.
Helooksdownathissweatshirt,thenbackupatme.“Yeah,”heanswers,alsoinEnglish.“I’masophomore,studyingsaxophone.Why?”
“Iwanttogothere.It’smytopchoice.”ThatandtheBerkleeCollegeofMusicinBoston.ExceptthatMomprefersIliveinNewYorkCity,closertomydad’ssideofthefamily.
Theguygivesmeanappraisinglook,andIinstinctivelystandupstraighter.“Ohyeah?For…dance?”
Iblush.“Cello.”
“Right.SowhatbringsyoutoSeoul?”
“I’mvisitingmygrandmotherforafewmonths.Iactuallyarrivedhereafewhoursago.FromLA.”
“Thatmakessense.YoulooklikeanLAgirl.”
Iwasn’texactlysureaboutthedancercomment,butthere’ssomethingaboutthisonethatgivesmepause.
Ithinkhe’sflirtingwithme.Thisisthesecondtimeinsomanymonthsthataguyhasflirtedwithme.
WhilenotasabsurdlyhandsomeasJaewoo,caféboyiscute.Andolder.
Thedooropensbehindmeandaguywearingadeliveryoutfitcallsout,“Ihaveabigordertoday,Ian-ssi.”
“Myname,”thecaféboysaystome.“Ian.”
“I’mJenny.”
“Waitonesec.”
Whenhereturns,hehandsmeato-gocup.“Mynumber’swrittenontheside.Itookasemesterofffromschooltopaysomebills,soI’llbeinSeoul.IfyouhaveanyquestionsaboutMSMorjustwannahangout,givemeacall.”
“I—Iwill,thankyou.”
“Seeyouaround,Jenny.”
HestartsreadyingthelargeorderfortheguyandImakemywaytothedoor,glancingdownatthesideofthecupwherehe’swritteninneatmarker:IanNam,guidetoallthingsMSM,plushisphonenumber.
IcontrolmyfacialexpressionuntilI’moutthedoor,thensortoffast-walkdownthestreet,myheartracing.WithinonlyafewshorthoursoflandinginSeoul,acuteKoreanboywhoworksatacaféandgoestomydreamschool,gavemehisnumberandmayormaynothaveaskedmeoutonadate.
MaybethisisasignofhowIshouldspendthesenextfewmonthsinSeoul,goingondates,spendingmytimeonactivitiesotherthancellopracticeorlessons.
Istumbleabit,asamemoryrisesup,ofJaewooacrossthetablefrommeinthesmalltentstallinLA,listeningattentivelyasIopeneduptohimaboutmyfather.Ifeelatightnessinmychest,rememberinghowhappyandhopefulIfeltthatnight,whichmakesitalltheworsethathenevertextedmeback.Butit’smyfault.Iletmyguarddown.IfIhadjustallowedthatnighttobewhatitwasalwaysmeanttobe—adistraction—thenIwouldhaveneverfeltsodisappointed.
FivemonthsinSeoul,fivemonthstohavenewexperiencesandmakethemostofeachmoment,andthenI’llreturnhome,hopefullyarmedwiththefierydeterminationtogoafterthefutureI’vealwayswanted.
Bolsteredbythisresolve,Ispendthenexthourwalkingaroundtheneighborhood—there’sasubwayentranceonlyafewblocksfrommygrandmother’shouseandarestaurantthatspecializesinjuk,orKoreanporridge,tuckedintoaquietcorner—beforereturningtotheapartment.
Therestofthedayisspentwithmyhalmeoni.SheandmymommusthaveatleastcometoatrucebecausemymomiscordialandHalmeoniispositivelychipper.WetakeataxitotheclinicwhereHalmeoniwillspendmostweekendsafterhertreatments.ThisisactuallywhereI’llcometovisither,sincewhenshe’sattheapartmentduringtheweekI’llbeatthedorms.
Afterward,wegrablunchandwalkaroundthearea.Momwantstoavoidjetlag,soweattemptalittlesightseeingbutbysix,I’masleeponmyfeet.Imanagetostayawakeforanothertwohoursbutdozeoffonthecabrideback,wakingonlytostumbleupthestairstotheapartment,whereIhitthepillowandsleepfortwelvehoursstraight.Eight
ThenextmorningHalmeonitakesMomandmetothejukrestaurantdownthestreet.It’sachillymorningandtheporridge,madeofboiledrice,warmsmerightup.Afterward,wewalkovertotheareaaroundGyeongbokgungPalace.It’swalledoffandrequiresanentrancefeesowedon’tgoinside,butHalmeoniandIhaveafuntimewalkingaroundarm-in-armandexclaimingoverthetouristsandlocalsdressedinbrightlycoloredhanbok,presumablyrentedfromthetraditionalKoreanclothingstoreslocatedoneverystreet.Momspendsthemajorityofthetimeonherphone,alreadygettingcallsfromherworkbackhome,thoughIdon’tmind;itgivesmemoreone-on-onetimewithHalmeonibeforeschoolstarts.
Aroundnoon,Halmeoniisshowingsignsoffatiguesoweheadbacktoherapartment.ThenatfourIgobackoutagain,thistimeonmyown.SinceI’mmovingintomydormatSeoulArtsAcademytomorrow,IhavetopickupmyschooluniformatastoreinSinsa-dong.
Mappingoutarouteonmyphone,Iheadovertothesubway,whereI’msurprisedtofinditconnectstoahugeundergroundshoppingmall.
I’mimmediatelyoverwhelmedbyahundredsights,sounds,andsmells.Differentaislesbranchoffinseeminglyendlessdirections,filledwithshopssellingeverythingfromKoreanbrandclothingtocellphoneaccessoriestocosmeticstoadorablesocksfor?1000apiece,whichequalstolessthanadollar.Therearedozensoffoodanddrinkstands,restaurants,bakeries,andcafés.Ispotafewfamiliarchains,likeDunkin’Donutsand7-Eleven,andafewuniquetoKoreaandAsia,likeHollysCoffeeandATwosomePlace.
Icouldspendhoursdownhereandstillnotseeeverything.Agroupofschoolgirlspassinfrontofme,headingtowardashopsellingcorndogstoppedwithcheesemustardandsweetchilisauce.I’mtemptedtostopforapre-dinnersnack,butaglanceatmyphoneremindsmethatIdon’thavelongbeforetheuniformstorecloses.
Downontheplatform,thetrainispreparingtoleave,soIsprinttothedoors,managingtoslipthroughbeforetheyclose.
Afewpassengerslookupatmyabruptarrival,butthengobacktopeeringattheirrespectivedevices.Itakeaseatnexttotwosmallboysplayingvideogamesontheirhandheldconsoles.Theydon’tseemtobeaccompaniedbyanadult,butI’mrealizingnowthat’sprobablyjusthowitisinSeoul,safeenoughthatkidscantravelaboutfreely.
Honestly,I’mabitenvious.Mymomwouldn’tletmetakepublictransitonmyownupuntilsixmonthsago.AndcomparedtoLA’ssystem,thissubwaycarseemslikeit’sfromthefuturewithapleasantautomatedvoiceoverheadexplainingwhatstationwe’releaving,andairsowell-circulatedIfeellikeI’minadepartmentstore.There’sevenasplit-screenmonitorattachedtotheceiling.Ononesideisadepictionofthesubwaycarasitleavesthestation,movingontothenextstopontheline.Theotherscreenshowstheendofamusicvideo.Fourboyswalkawayfromthecamera,fireanddestructionintheirwake.OnthebottomrightsideJoahEntertainmentappearsonthescreen,aswellastheartists’name,XOXO,andthesong,“Don’tLookBack.”
Themusicvideoshiftstoacommercialforaninstantcoffeebrand.
Igetoffthesubwayattherightstopandfollowmymappingapptotheaddresstheschoolhadprovidedfortheuniformshop.
Ialmostmissthebuildingbecauseofthecrowdgatheredoutsideit.
Girls,mostlymiddleschoolersinthickcoats,huddlenexttoablackvanparkedneartheentrance.
Ishufflemywaythroughthecrowd.Atthefront,aharriedlookingmaninhisthirtiesblocksthedoor.
“Youcan’tenter,”hesaystome.
“I’mheretopickupmyuniform.”IpulluptheemailfrommycontactatSeoulArtsAcademyandshowhimthescreen.
TheemailisinEnglish,butthatdoesn’tseemtobeanissuebecausehesighs,pushingthedooropenbehindhim.“Don’ttakeanypictures.”
Inod,thoughit’saweirdpolicytohave.WhatifIwanttoshowmymommyuniform?AsIwalkthrough,afewofthegirlsscream,andIstumbleoverthethreshold.Whatthehell?
Thedoorshuts,cuttingoffallnoise.
Withallthecommotiononthestreet,Iexpectittobechaosinside,butit’squiet.Otherthanmyself,therearen’tanycustomers.Uniformshangonracksthroughoutthestore.Oneofthetwoassistantsbehindthecheckoutdeskapproachesme.Likewiththemanoutside,Ishowhertheemail.Shequicklygetstowork,takingdownitemsinafewsizesformetotry—button-downshirts,skirts,pants,asweater,andablazer.ShealsoaddsPEclothingtothepileandafewaccessories—atieandaheadband.
“Doyouneedassistance?”sheasksaftershowingmethewaytothechangingrooms.
“No,Ishouldbeokay.”
Shehandsmetheclothing.“Ifyouneedhelp,ringthecallbuttoninsidethechangingroom.”
“Thankyou,”Isayandshebowsbeforewalkingbacktothedesk.Ialmostaskherwhythere’sacrowdofgirlsoutsidethestore.Isthereasaleontheuniforms?Thatwouldactuallybegreat.
Istepthroughadrawncurtainthatseparatesthemainareaofthestorefromthechangingrooms.Ontheotherside,there’sasmallroomwithalargethree-sidedmirror.
Aguystandsagainstthewall,lookingdownathisphone.I’mmomentarilysurprised,onlybecauseIhadn’tthoughttherewasanyoneelseinthestore.
He’saroundmyage,leanbutstrong-looking,andwearingallblack.Imusthavebeenstaringbecauseheglancesup.Iquicklylookawayandenteroneofthethreechangingrooms.
I’veneverwornauniform,butIquicklyfigureoutthelogisticsofit,tuckingthewhiteshirtintothewaistbandoftheskirt—Idon’tknowhowtotieatie,soIleavethat—andslippingthesweaterovermyhead.Iputtheblazeroverthewholething,stickingmycellphoneinthepocket.Iturntothemirrorinsidethedressingroom,butit’sprettysmall,whichexplainswhythere’safull-bodytrifoldinthemainroom.
Ihesitate,rememberingtheguyonhisphone.AmIreallygoingtocheckmyselfoutwithhimstandingrightthere?
Oh,whatever.ThisiswhatI’mherefor.Ipressbackthecurtainandwalkout,carefulnottolookattheguy.InsteadIapproachthemirrorandstepupontothelittleplatform,offeringmeseveralanglestoviewhowtheuniformfits.
Imustadmit,Ilookgood.Theskirthitsaninchabovemyknees,whichI’mnotsureisstandard,butmakesmylegslookgreat.Ihavewideshoulders,whichI’mabitself-consciousabout,buttheyfillouttheblazernicely.Slippingmyhandsintomypockets,Idoseveralposestoseehowitlooksfromdifferentangles.
Aloudjinglestartstoplay.Ireachintothepocketofmyblazerandpulloutmyphone.
“Didyoumakeittothestoreallright?”MomaskswhenIpickup.AfterhearingKoreanallday,it’sarelieftoswitchtoEnglish.
“Yeah,”Isay.“I’mjusttryingonmyuniformnow.”
“Willyoubehomeintimefordinner?Yourhalmeoniwantstotreatyoubeforeyoumoveintoyourdormtomorrow.”
“Yeah,Ishouldbehomeinanhour.”
“Okay,seeyouthen.”
Ihangup.
“YougotoSeoulArtsAcademy?”
Theguyfromearlierhasmovedawayfromthewallandisnowstandingtothesideofthemirrors.Ittakesmeamomenttorealizehe’sspeakingtome.InEnglish.Withoutanaccent.
“Yeah,”Isay,“I’mtransferringthere,fromLosAngeles.”
“LosAngeles…”There’sastrangeexpressiononhisface,likethere’ssomethingaboutmethathecan’tmakeout.Maybeit’sthatI’methnicallyKorean,butI’mspeakinginEnglish.ButIcouldsaythesameabouthim.“Youlivethere?”heasks.
“Yeah.Why?”Staringdirectlyathimlikethis,Ican’thelpbutnoticehowattractiveheis.Hehasdeepdimples,evenunsmiling,andsofthairthathooksrakishlyoverhiseyes.
Heshrugs.“Nothing.Youjustlookfamiliar.I’mfromtheUStoo.NewYork.”ThatexplainshisEnglish-speakingskills.Andwhyhe’stalkingtome.
“HowdidyouendupinSeoul?”Iask.
Hestaresatme,andIwonderifI’vesomehowaskedaninsensitivequestion.“Soyoudon’tknowwhoIam.”
It’sastatement,butitseemslikeaquestion.
“ShouldI?”
“Notparticularly.”
O-kaythen.IfeellikeI’mmissingapieceofthisconversation.
He,however,seemstogetmorecomfortable,leaningagainstthemirror.“AnopportunitycameupandImovedhere.MyfamilylivesinFlushing.”
“Wow,”Ideadpan,“youcan’tgetmoreKoreanAmericanthanthat.”
Helaughs.
“Hyeong,areyouspeakingEnglish?”Aboybarrelsoutoftheleftmostdressingroom.IfIhadtoguess,he’sprobablyaroundfifteen,hismostnoticeablefeatureashockofbright-bluehair.“Whatareyousaying?”
Beforeanswering,theguyinblackasksmeinKorean,“Howareyourconversationskills?”
“They’reallright,”Irespond,alsoinKorean.“Ican’tdiscusspoliticsoranything.”Idon’tknowthewordforpoliticsinKoreansoIjustsayitinEnglish.
“Honestly,meneither.”Heturnstotheblue-hairedboyandpatshimonthehead.“Sorry,Youngmin-ah.Whenforeignersmeetabroad,wecan’thelpourselves.”
Youngminglancesatme,hiseyeslightingup.“YougotoSeoulArtsAcademy?”Irealizehe’swearingthesameuniformasme,thoughwithpantsinsteadofaskirt.“Wegotheretoo.I’mChoiYoungmin,afirstyear.Nathaniel-hyeongisinYearThree.”
“Nicetomeetyouboth.I’mJenny,I’min…”—theacademicyearsinKoreaaredifferentthantheStates,withhighschoolstructuredinthreeyears—“myjunioryearbackathome,butIguessYearThree,here?”
“Jenny’sfromLA,”Nathanielexplains,lookingdownathisnails.
“Really?”Youngminshouts.“We’vebeenthere!”
“Oh,yeah?”Ismile.“Whatfor?”Also,aretheyactualbrothers?YoungminhadbeencallingNathaniel“hyeong,”whichmeans“olderbrother”inKorean,buttheylooknothingalike.
YoungminglancesatNathanielbeforespeaking,“Toshootourmusicvideofor‘Don’tLookBack.’”
Musicvideo?Somethingclicksintoplace.Theschoolgirlswaitingoutside.Themanstandingatthedoor.EvenYoungmin’shair,thebrightcolorremindingmeoftheadsI’veseeneverywheresincetouchingdowninSeoul.
“Areyou…”DoK-popstarscallthemselvesK-popstars?It’snotlikeArianaGrandecallsherselfanAmericanpopstar.
“Idols,”Youngminfillsin.“We’retwoofthemembersofthegroupXOXO.I’mthemaknae,theyoungestinthegroup,andalsotherapper.Nathaniel’savocalistandmaindancer.Wealsohaveourleaderwho’sarapperlikeme,aswellasourmainvocalist.”
Theymustbeprettyfamous,iftheyalreadyhavefansfollowingthemaround.IfeellikeabadKoreanfornotknowingwhotheyare…
“Wait,I’veseenyourmusicvideo!”Isay.“Inthesubwayonthewayhere.”
Youngmingrins.“Maybeyou’llbecomeafan?”
Iwinkathim.“Oh,forsure.”
Nathaniellooksatmeoddly.“Youwatchedthewholething?”
IguessitwouldbestrangeifIhadseenthemusicvideoandnotrecognizedthem.“No,justtheending.”
“Itcameoutaweekago,”Youngminexplains.“It’sthemaintrackoffourfirstfull-lengthalbum.”
“Congratulations,”IsayandYoungminbeams.“SoyoufilmedthemusicvideoinLosAngeles?Didyoulikethecity?”
“Ilovedit!Wehadsuchagreattime.Well…”Hisfacefalls.“Untilthelastday.Therewasanaccident…”
“Youngmin!Nathaniel.”Themanwhowasstandingoutsidethedoorpokeshisheadintothedressingarea.“Oh,”hesays,whenhecatchessightofme.Helookssuspiciousforasecond,likehethinksImighthavesnuckinheretoaccostYoungminandNathaniel,butthenhenoticesthatI’mwearingtheuniformforSeoulArtsAcademy.Heturnsbacktotheboys.“Morefansaregatheringoutsidethestore.Areyoufinished?”
“Yeah!Thisonefits.”Youngminrushesbackintothedressingroom.Theman,whomustbetheirmanager,doesn’tleave,engagingNathanielinsmalltalk,probablysothathedoesn’tspeaktome.
I’mheadingbacktomydressingroomwhenYoungmindashesout,dressedhead-to-toeinNikeandwearingahugepufferjacketthatalmosthitsthefloor.
Hewavesatmeandrunsoff,hookingarmswiththemanager.Nathanielisslowertoleave,glancingatme.“Seeyouwhenschoolstarts.”
Afterthey’regone,IquicklychangeandpayformyclothingsothatIcangetbacktoMomandHalmeoni.Althoughthecrowdoutsidethestorehasdispersedtherearemorepeopleonthestreets.Ijointhetideheadingtowardthesubway,inabitofadazefromthisafternoon’sevents.
IjustmettwoK-popstars.Celebrities.StudentsatSeoulArtsAcademy.Iknowafewkidsbackatschoolwhowouldkilltobeinmyposition.
Thenagain,it’snotlikeI’llinteractwiththemmuch.I’msuretheyhavetheirownfriends,andfans.Thoughitwouldhavebeennice,towalkintoschoolthatfirstdayandalreadyhavesomeoneIknow.
AnimageofJaewooflashesthroughmymind.
ThelasttextmessageIsenthimisstillmarked“unread.”I’dcheckeditthismorning,asIhaveeverymorning.
Steppingontotheescalatorthatleadsdownintothesubway,ItakeoutmyphoneandpullupJaewoo’scontact.Ipresstheeditbuttonandscrolldown.Ishoulddeletehisnumberonceandforall.MaybethenI’llstopthinkingabouthim.
Abrightlightshinesupaheadastheescalatorapproachesthebottom.Amassivepostertakesupahugeportionofthesubwaywall,fromfloortoceiling.
Istareinshockbecauseit’sthem.XOXO.
Therearefourofthem,justasYoungminhadsaid.Onthefarright,Irecognizehim.Hehasthesamebrighthairandsmile.Theboyonthefarleftmustbetheeldestmember,theotherrapper.BesidehimisNathaniel,lookingabsurdlysexyashesmoldersatthecamera.Notmytype,buthemustdrivegirlswild.Andbesidehimis…
No.
Noway.
Oh.
My.
God.
Withshakinghands,Ilookdownatmyphone.Icloseouttheeditscreenandscrollupinthemessages.Tothephototakeninthestickerbooth.Istareattheboybesidemeinthephoto,andthenattheposteronthewall,wherethemainvocalistofXOXOisair-brushed,butjustasgorgeous.
They’rethesameperson.
He’sthesameperson.
Jaewoo.Nine
Igoogle“JaewooXOXO”onthesubwayridebacktomygrandmother’sapartmentanddiscoverhisage,seventeenyearsold,andbirthday,September1.Andthathe’s182centimeters.Hewasn’tlyingaboutthat.
HewasborninBusan,SouthKorea,andmovedtotheUSwhenhewasinelementaryschool,whichexplainshisEnglish-speakingskills,beforemovingbacktoBusaninmiddleschoolwherehewas“discovered”becauseofhisgoodlooks.Hetrainedforfiveyears,thendebutedwithXOXOlastyear.
Theywerealreadypopularasarookiegroup,buttheirrecentreleaseof“Don’tLookBack”brokerecordsonallthemusiccharts.
NowonderNathanielwassurprisedIhadn’trecognizedhimorYoungmin.I’msureeveryoneinSeoulknowswhotheyare.
TheirfanclubiscalledtheKissandHugClub,andthissummerthebandisgoingonaworldtour,withastopinNewYorkCity.
IputinmyearbudsandopenupYouTube,searching“XOXO.”Themusicvideofor“Don’tLookBack”isthefirsttocomeup.Iclickonit.
Iwatchthevideoinastunneddaze,tryingtoabsorbboththegorgeousvisualsandthelyricstothesong.Therapsaretoofastformetounderstand,butthechorusgoessomethinglike:“EvenifI’mcrying,evenifI’montheflooranddying,don’tlookback,don’tlookback.”Whichissuperdramatic,but,wow,Ihavechills.ThevideoseemstobethisreverseOrpheusandEurydiceconceptwhereeachoftheboysisgoingthroughharrowingtrialsinanoir-underworldaesthetic,whileinthebackgroundagirl,herbacktothecamera,isshownwalkingaway.
Interspersedthroughitallareclipsofthemdancinginawarehouse,theirmovementssynchronizedandcomplex,andJaewooiswearingtheoutfitthatheworeatthekaraokebarthenightthatImethim.HemusthavebrokenhisarmduringthemusicvideoshootandthensomehowendedupatJay’saftergoingtothehospital.
It’sclearwhyNathanielisconsideredthe“maindancer”ofthegroup.He’sincredible;it’sdifficulttolookawayfromhimwhenhe’satthefrontoftheformation,andyet…Jaewooistheonewhocompletelycapturesmyattention.Hismovementsaren’taselectrifyingasNathaniel’s,butthey’recleanandsmooth,andhisvoice…Hesingspartsoftheversesandharmonizeswiththeothersforthechorus,butthebridgeiscompletelyhis,thebeatstrippedouttoaccentuatehisbeautifultone.Atonepoint,hedoesarun,goingfromlowtohigh,andmywholebodyshivers.
ThevideoendsandYouTuberecommendsaperformancevideoandadancepracticevideo.Iwatchboth,andthenanotherwithXOXOonsomesortofvarietyshowwheretheyplayaverycomplexgameoftag.
I’msoimmersedinthevideosIalmostmissthefriendlyfemalevoiceoverthesubwayintercomannouncingthatwe’vereachedmystation.Ilookupfrommyphoneonlytomeetthegazeofagirlaroundmyageseatednexttome,whoapparentlywaswatchingthescreenofmyphoneovermyshoulder.
Shenodsatmeknowingly.
Backatmygrandmother’sapartment,Halmeoni’snotfeelinguptogoingout,soweorderjjajangmyeonfromarestaurantdownthestreet,whichdeliverstheblackbeannoodleinarecordfifteenminutes.
Afterdinner,Icollapseontomybed—whichisjustblanketsonthefloorbecausemygrandmotheronlyhasoneguestbed—andcontinuemyinternetsleuthing.
Theoldestmember,Sun,iscoldandhandsome,famousforhislonghairandslendereyesthatmakehimlooklikeahotsupervillaininavideogame.NathanielisfromNewYork,andintriguingly,thefirstarticlethatcomesupwhenhisnameissearchedisaboutascandalhehadafewmonthsbackwithanunnamedtrainee—someonewhohadn’tyetdebutedinagrouporasasoloartist—fromJoah,theirentertainmentcompany.ApparentlyhedatedthisgirlinsecretformonthsbeforeBulletin,amajortabloidmagazine,releasedphotosofthetwoofthemtogether,thoughthephotoswereblurredonline.Thetrainee’sidentitywasneverreleased,butnetizenshavetheories.Youngminisnotonlytheyoungestinthegroup,buttheyoungestoffivesiblings.AsforJaewoo,there’sverylittleabouthispersonallife,besidesthefactthathe’soriginallyfromBusan.Hehasn’thadanyscandals,andarecentpollclaimsthatofthefourmembers,he’sthemostlikelytoneverdisappointhisparents,whateverthatmeans.Hisnicknameisalso“Prince”amongidolsbecauseofhischarmingmannersandstellarreputation.
“Shouldn’tyougotosleep?”Momsayswhenshecomesintotheroomaroundmidnight.“Whatareyoudoinganyway?I’veneverknownyoutobeattachedtoyourphone.”
“Nothing.”Icloseoutthebrowserandslipthephoneundermypillow.
“YourhalmeoniandIweren’tabletogotothecliniclikeweplannedtoday,”Momsays,“soIwanttotakehertomorrow.IknowIsaidI’dhelpyoumoveintoyourdorm…”
“It’sfine,”Iquicklyreassureher,“I’lltakeacab.”
SheturnsoffthelightsandIsettleontomybackontheblankets,thoughwhenIclosemyeyes,Ican’tseemtofallasleep.
Ithinkit’sfinallydawningonmethattheboyImetatthekaraokebar—Jaewoo—isanidol,famousenoughthathisfaceisplasteredontowallsandhismusicvideoplaysbetweenadsonthesubway.
ThinkingbacktothatnightinLA,IcringetoremembersomeofthingsIsaidtohim.Iaccusedhimofbeingagangster,thoughnowIknowhewasonlydressedthatwaybecauseofthemusicvideo.Washelaughingatmethewholetime?Iscowlatthethought,butIalsofeelabithurt.Though,evenifhewaslaughingatmyexpenseinthebeginning,asthenightwenton,Ifeellikesomethingdidchangebetweenus,aswesharedmoreaboutourselves.
Ihaveasuddenthought.IfNathanielandYoungminattendSAA,thenit’slikelyJaewoodoestoo.
Ofcourseit’sentirelypossiblethathedoesn’tgotomyschool.Yet,somehowIknowthat’snotthecase.
MyheartbeatsthicklyknowingthatImightseehimagain,andsoon.
Whatwillhesaytome?WhatwillIsaytohim?
Itakeacalm,steadyingbreath.
There’snouseworryingaboutthatnow.Oratleast,that’swhatItellmyself,asforthenextfewhours,ItossandturnuntilfinallysuccumbingtoasleepfulloffitfuldreamsoftheboysofXOXOastheywereinthemusicvideo,exceptthegirlwalkingawayisme.Ten
Accordingtothedormsupervisor,I’mtheonlystudentmovinginthismorning;themajorityofthestudentsinYearThreeareeitherreturningstudents,whokeeptheirsameroom,orliveoff-campuswiththeirfamilies.IcouldhaveoptedtolivewithHalmeoniandmymom,butitwouldhavebeenaforty-five-minutecommute,thereandback.Andoncampus,therearepracticeroomswhereIwon’tannoyanysound-sensitiveneighbors.Plus,withhowmanyhoursmymomworks,I’musedtolivingmoreorlessonmyown.
“Thoughyourequestedasingleroom,”thesupervisorexplainsaswetaketheelevatoruptothetopfloor,“weunfortunatelydidn’thaveanyavailable.”
“That’snotaproblem,”Isay.
Theelevatoropenstoacleanhallwithambientlightfilteringthroughthehighwindows.Ipushforwardthesmallcartthatholdsmysuitcasesandcello.
Halfwaydownthehall,thesupervisorstopsatadoorwithakeypadlock.“Didyoureceiveanemailfromhousing?”
“Yes.”Ipulloutmyphone,scrollingdownintheemailforthecodetothekeypad.Ipressthebuttonsanditmakesawhirringsoundasitunlocks.
“Ihavetosigninsomedeliveries,”thewomansays,distracted.“Willyoubeokaymovinginbyyourself?”
“Oh,yes,goonahead.”
SheheadsbackinthedirectionoftheelevatorandIopenthedoortotheroom.I’msurprisedtofindit’smorespaciousthanIexpected,abouttwicethesizeoftheguestroominHalmeoni’shouse.Proppingopenthedoorwithmyluggagecart,Islipoffmyshoesinthesmallentranceway.Iopenthecabinettomyleftoutofcuriosityandgapeattheamountofshoesalreadystockpiledinside.IspotDocMartens,threepairsofsneakers,knee-highboots,flats,andapairofstilettos.Myroommate,whoeversheis,hassomeseriousfootwear.
Theroomissplitinhalfbyabookshelfdividerwiththeareanearestthedoorwayclearlyoccupied.Besidestheshoes,mystylishroommatehasastandingrackwithcoatsanddresses,presumablyoverflowfromheralreadypackedcloset.Everythingelseabouthersideoftheroomisneat,herdeskbarebutforacomputerandafewlandscapephotographspinnedtoacorkboard.
Iwonderifshe’salwaysthiscleanorifshetidiedupinpreparationformyarrival.
Idropmybackpackbesidetheunmadebedonmysideoftheroomandpropmycelloagainstthewall.
I’mtemptedtocollapseontothebed,butIknowthatifIdo,Iwon’tgetupforanotherhour.Istarttobringmyluggageintotheroom,beginningwiththeonethathasmybedsheets.Imakeanotetogodowntothehousingofficetopickupacomforterandpillows.
I’monmywayoutforthelastsuitcasewhenIbumpintomyroommate’sdesk.Oneofherpicturesdislodgesandfloatstothefloor.Iquicklyleandownandpickitup.It’snotaphotograph,butapostcard.FromLosAngeles.IflipoverthecardtoseealongmessagewritteninKorean.I’mgladmyHangeulisseverelylacking,otherwiseI’dbetemptedtoreadit.I’mputtingitbackwhenafewwordsinEnglishandasignatureatthebottomcatchesmyattention.
Chinup,Songbird.
Youwillalwayshavemyheart.
XOXO
“Whatareyoudoing?”
Agirlstandsinthedoorway.Walkingover,shesnatchesthepostcardoutofmyhand.
“OhmyGod,I’msosorry,”Isay.Asfarasfirstimpressionsgo,thisistheworst.Ifeelawful.Ishouldn’thavelookedatherthings,evenifitwasbymistake.“Iknockedintoyourdeskanditfell.”
Sheopensadraweranddropsthepostcardinside,shuttingitwithaloudbang.
Iwince.“I’myournewroommate,Jenny.”
“Iknow,”shesays.Shedoesn’tofferhername,thoughI’dseenitonthesmallplacardoutsideourdoor.
MinSori.
Hernameisasbeautifulassheis.Shehascat-likeeyes,along,elegantnose,andgorgeouspoutylips.IthoughtIwastallforaKoreangirl,butwe’rethesameheight,thoughsheappearstallerduetoherballerina-likeposture.
“Iwouldn’thavebeenabletothereadthepostcard,evenifIwantedto,”Iexplainfurther.“I’mfromtheStates.MyKoreanreadingskillsaretheequivalentofagradeschooler’s.”
“Couldyoumove?”shesays.“Ineedtostudy.”
Idon’tcaremuchabouthonorifics,butitfeelspointedthatsheisn’tusinganywithme.Insteadoffamiliarandfriendly,herbanmalsoundsrude.
Istepawayfromherdeskandshesitsdown,openinguphercomputerandputtinginherearbuds.
Well,thesenextfewmonthsaregoingtobeawkward.I’mnotusuallyintimidatedbypeople,butshecouldfreezefire.
Ispendtherestofthemorningunpacking,carefulnottodisturbher,thoughshedoesn’tglanceuponcefromhercomputer.Atnoon,shegetsupandchangesintoworkoutclothes.I’mtemptedtoaskifshewantsarunningpartner,butherearbudsarestillin.
Whensheleavestheroom,Iletoutahugesigh.Damn.I’veheardoftenseroommatesituationsfromBomiwho’salreadyonhersecondyearatUCLA,butthisseemsalittleextreme.
SinceHalmeonididn’thaveadryeratherapartment,Iheldoffdoinglaundry.Idecidetodoaquickloadnow,grabbingmyhamperandtakingtheelevatordowntothedorm’slaundryroom.Afterstartingtherinsecycle,Isetatimerforthirtyminutesonmyphoneandheadoutsideinsearchoffood.
Luckily,there’saconveniencestoreacrossthequadinthestudentcenter.Ipurchaseafewtrianglegimbap—ricewrappedindriedseaweedandshapedlikeatriangle—andeatheartily,washingthemdownwithbottledwater.Then,becauseIstillhavefifteenminutesbeforemylaundryisfinished,Iheadovertowhereacoupleofstudentshavegatheredaroundaseriesofmonitors.They’reallbroadcastingthesameprogram,MusicNetLIVE,whichI’dseenare-runofwhenstayingatHalmeoni’s.It’sashowthatfeaturespopularandnewartistswhoperformliveonastageinfrontofastudioaudience.
Onthescreen,twoMCsintroducethenextperformers.“MakingtheirMusicNetcomebackwith‘Don’tLookBack,’XOXO!”
ThecameraanglesanestablishingshotofSun,Jaewoo,Nathaniel,andYoungmininformationonthestage,surroundedbybackupdancers.
“Isthishappeningrightnow?”Iaskoneofthestudents.
“Yeah,”thestudent—aboy—responds.“EverySundayonEBC.”
Thecamerazoomsinoneachindividualmemberwhenit’stheirturntostandatthefrontoftheformation,whethertosingorraptheirlines.
Jaewoobeginshisverse,hisvoiceclearandstrong,evenwhiledancing.
“Theygotoourschool,youknow,”theboysays.
“Allofthem?”Idon’tknowifIsoundhopefulorfullofdread.
Theboyapparentlydoesn’teitherbecauseheraisesaneyebrow.“Threeofthemdo.”Jaewoofinisheshislines,andtheoldestmemberofthegroupbeginstorap.Theboynodsatthescreen.“Sungraduatedlastyear.”
SoIwillseeJaewoo.Tomorrow,sinceapparentlyhe’sperformingliveonanationwidetelevisionprogramtoday.
Iwrapmyarmsaroundmybody,feelingthenervesIfeltlastnight.Ijustdon’tknowwhattoexpect,havingneverbeenthissituationbefore,meetingagaintheboywhobasicallyrejectedmeovertext.Oh,andhe’saK-popidol.
“Alotoftraineesgohere,”theboycontinues,oblivioustomyinnerturmoil.“FromJoahandtheotherentertainmentcompanies.”
“I’matraineeatNeptuneEntertainment,”agirlpipesup.“MylabelenrolledmeatSAAsinceI’mstillunderage.”She’safewinchesshorterthanme,withrosycheeksandasweetdemeanor.“Myname’sAngelaKwang.I’mfromTaiwan.ImovedtoSeoulaboutthreemonthsago.”
“Nicetomeetyou,”Isay.“Myname’sJennyGo.I’m…American.”
Theboynodsatbothofus.“HongGiTaek.I’mnotatrainee,butI’mplanningtoauditionforJoahsoon.I’dsayhalfthestudentbodyhereiseitheratraineeortryingtobecomeone.”
“JoahisXOXO’slabel,right?”Angelaasks.“Ican’tbelieveI’llactuallybeabletogotoschoolwiththem,thoughI’msuretheynevercometoclasses.They’reprobablysobusy.”
“They’reheremorethanyouwouldthink.JoahEntertainmentispracticallydownthestreet,andtheCEOofthecompanyisontheboardofdirectorsfortheschool.”
Oh,wow.IknewSAAwasaperformingartsschool,butIdidn’tknowithadsuchasignificanttietotheentertainmentindustry.Butitmakessensewhyidolsandtraineesattendthisacademy.Ifit’sanythinglikeLACHSA,theschoolisprobablyflexiblewhenitcomestoexcusedabsencesandregularcoreclasses,prioritizingtheperformingarts.
“Whataboutyou,Jenny?”Angelaasks.
Forasecond,Ithinkshe’saskingmeifI’mexcitedtoseeXOXO,thenIrealizeshemeanswhatamIstudyingatSAA.
“I’macellomajor.”
“That’ssocool!”Angelaexclaims.“I’vealwayswantedtoplayaninstrument.ButIjustneverhadanytalent.Imean,notthatIhaveanytalentinsinginganddancingeither.”Shegiggles,andIsmile,appreciatingthatshecanlaughatherself.“Butit’smydreamtodebut.”
“Debut?”Iask.InmydeepdiveintoXOXO’stimeline,I’dlearnedthey“debuted”onlyayearago,thoughIwasn’texactlysurewhatthatmeant.
GiTaeksighs,clearlydisappointedthatI’mlackingthebasicknowledgeofidolculture.
“Ooh,”Angelasays,eagertosharehers.“It’sprettysimple.Afterundergoingtrainingwithyourcompany,whichformemeanslearningchoreography,takingvoicelessonsandlanguageclassesinKorean,Japanese,andEnglish,aswellaspublicspeakingclasses,acompanywillformagroupbasedonawholeslewoffactors—likebrandingandspecifictalentsandvoices.Then,theyreleasethemembers’profilesandphotosonlineinordertobuildupexcitementforthegroup.Finally,they’llputoutasingleoranalbum.Oncethegroupholdsashowcaseandstartspromoting,they’veofficiallydebuted!”
Igapeather.Ifthat’ssimple,what’scomplicated?
“Ofcoursethere’smoretoitthanthat,”GiTaeksays,“butthat’sthegistofit.Andevenifitisyourdreamtodebut,it’snotagiven.”
Icomparetheirexperiencestomine.“ThatsoundsalotlikewhatI’mtryingtodowithmycelloplaying,”Isay,thoughtfully.“ExceptIwanttogetintoamusicschoolinsteadofanentertainmentcompany.AndIwanttojoinanorchestrainsteadofanidolgroup.”
“That’sexactlylikeit!”Angelasays,beaming.
GiTaeknods,givingmeanappraisingsmile.
MyphonebuzzesinmypocketandIcheckittoseemytimerhasgoneoffformylaundry.“Igottarun,”Isay,thenhesitate.It’sbeenawhilesinceI’veactivelymadefriendsandI’mnotexactlysurehowtogoaboutit.
AndthoughIdon’tnecessarilyneedfriends,seeingasI’mleavingattheendofthesemester.HavingthemwouldmakemytimehereatSAAthatmuchmoreenjoyable.
Angelasmiles.“Ihopewehavesomeclassestogether,Jenny.”
“Metoo,”Isay,thengivealittlewave.BeforeIturntowardthequad,Iglanceatthemonitors.XOXOhasfinishedtheirperformanceandanewgroupstandsonstage,singingaboutyouthandrunningtowardyourdreamswithallyourheart.Eleven
GoJenny,Year3,Schedule:MondaytoThursday
8–8:10Homeroom/ClassAttendance
8:10–9:35Period1or4
9:40–11:05Period2or5
11:10–12:35Period3or6
12:40–13:15Lunch
13:20–16:00Arts
16:05–18:00StudyHall
OnFridays,theschedulechanges
9–9:10Homeroom/ClassAttendance
9:10–10:25Arts
10:30–12:35StudyHall
12:40–13:15Lunch
13:20–16:00Arts
SundaynightIgoovermyschedulefortheonehundredthtime.IhavemyownseparatestudyhallwhenmyclassmatesaretakingKorean,English,science,andhistory.ButI’llsitwiththeminclasseslikecomputer,math,andPE,andofcourseallthemusicclasses,whichincludesorchestraandsoloperformance.
I’malsoenrolledindance,anelectivethatIwassortedintolast-minuteduetomylatetransfer.I’mfinewithitfornow,butIneedtotalktomycounselortoseeifIcanswitchittoastudyhall.Asamusician,Idon’tlackrhythm,butmybodydoesn’tknowthat.
Whenmyalarmgoesoffthenextmorning,Soriisalreadygone.Itakemytimegettingready,justnowrealizingthebiggestproofauniform—Idon’thavetodecidewhattowearinthemorning.
Inthehall,I’mimmediatelygladIshoweredthenightbeforebecausethere’salreadyalineformingoutsidethecommunalbathroom.Ifindanopenspaceinfrontofthemirrortoapplyeyelinerandasweepofglosstomylips.Iactuallydon’tknowwhatthedresscodeisformakeup,butwithsomanycosmeticcaseslinedupinfrontoftheglass,itcan’tbethatstrict.
Sinceit’sthefirstday,anall-schoolassemblyisbeingheldintheworld-renownedconcerthall.AsImakemywaytowardthebuilding,IlookaroundfortheboyandgirlI’dmetinthestudentcenterlastnight,GiTaekandAngela.I’mfeelingjitteryandanxious,mygazedartingacrossthequad,heartstoppingeverytimemyeyeslandonaparticularlytallboy.Itrytotellmyselfit’sfirst-day-of-schoolnerves,first-day-of-school-in-a-new-countrynerves.Andwhilethat’sapartofit,IknowI’malsonervousaboutseeingJaewoo.IjustwanttogetthissecondmeetingoverwithsothatIcangetonwithmylifeinSeoul.
Insidetheauditorium,studentsarealreadyfindingtheirseats.
“Jenny!”Myheartstops,butit’sGiTaek,headingoverwithAngelaintow
“You’llneedtofixyourtie,”hesays,inplaceofgoodmorning.“You’llgetdemeritsifoneoftheteachersnotice.”
“Iloveyourhair!”Angelasays,gesturingtomysidepigtails,whichImostlybraidedoutofstress.
“Let’stakeourseatsbeforeitgetstoocrowded,”GiTaeksays.
WeenterthroughthedoubledoorsandIhavetostopforamomenttotakeinmysurroundings.Theperformancehallishugewithahighdomedceilingtomaximizesoundandacoustics.Thestageisagorgeousrosewood-mahoganycolor,theseatsfannedoutfromthecenterforoptimalviewing.
“Iseethreeseatstogether!”Angelapointstothebackrow.“Let’stakethembeforesomeoneelsedoes.”
Ilookformyroommateaswemakeourwayoverandspotherafewrowsdowntotheleft.She’ssittingapartfromtherestofthestudents,withthetwoseatsoneithersideofher—andinbackandfrontofher—empty.Yetherisolationseemslikeachoiceshemaderatherthanforanyotherreason.Shesitswithherarmscrossed,gazestraightahead,givingofftalk-to-me-and-you’ll-dievibes.
I’mimmediatelydistractedwhensomeoneshouts,“Yah!ChoiYoungmin!”
IwhipmyheadinthedirectionofthedoorswhereYoungminhasjustwaltzedthrough.Thenoiseintheauditoriumrisesaskidsstartwhisperingtoeachotherinexcitement.
Youngminskipstothefront,joiningagroupoffirstyearboyswhogivehimhigh-fives.
ThenNathanielstepsthroughthedoors,andit’strulyasifacelebrityhasarrived,hishairartfullymessedandhistieaskew.It’sstrangetoseehiminreallife,whenIspentallweekendwatchinghiminvideos.Iwonderifit’sjustasweirdforthestudentsatSAAwho’vegonetoschoolwithhimandtherestofthemembersofXOXO,toseetheirpeers,maybeeventheirfriends,achievethedreamthey’vewantedforsolong.
NathanieltakestheclosestavailableseattohiminthesectionforYearThreeandisimmediatelyswarmedbygirls.
ImanagetotearmygazeawaylongenoughtonoticethatSori’sattentionhasshiftedtothedoor.Asifrealizingthisherself,shequicklylooksahead.
At8:09anotherstudentslipsintotheauditorium,butit’snotJaewoo.Thenanother,andanother.At8:10exactly,ateacherappearsandshutsthedoors.
Ishelate?No,hewouldhavecomewithhisbandmates,ifhewasgoingtocomeatall.Maybehe’sdecidedtofinishhisdiplomaonline.Orhe’sdoingsomesortofpromotionalworkoverseas.K-popidolsdostufflikethatallthetime,right?
I’msocaughtupinmyownthoughts,Ialmostfailtonoticethewomanwhowalksontothestage,takingherplacebehindapodium.
SheintroducesherselfastheprincipalofSeoulArtsAcademy,aninstitutionthatwasestablishedfiftyyearsagoandhastaughtmanyprestigiousalumnae,includingafewnamesthatget“oohs”and“aahs”fromthestudents.Shegoesontotalkabouttheexpectationstheacademyhasofitsstudents,whichincludesupholdingthereputationoftheschoolinconductandcharacter,aswellasdedicationtotheartsaboveallthings.Shealsomentionssomethingcalledthe“SeniorShowcase,”whichcreatesastirofinterestamongthestudents.
“Allseniorsarerequiredtoparticipate,”PrincipalLeeinformsus,“whetherasapartofanensemble,collaborators,orsoloists.Thisisthebestopportunitytoshowcaseyourtalent.Representativesfromallthemajoruniversitieswillbeinattendance,aswellasafewfromoverseas,BerkleeCollege,TokyoUniversityoftheArts,andtheManhattanSchoolofMusic.”
Shegoesontosaythatrecruitingofficersfromthemajorentertainmentlabelswillalsobeinattendance,butI’vestoppedlistening.ArepresentativefromMSMwillbeintheaudienceonthenightoftheshowcase.IfIcangetasoloandputonagreatperformance,thenImightbeashoo-in.Icanfeelmyheartstarttorace.Everythingisfallingintoplace,thestarsaligning.
“Andnowwe’llhaveourwelcomeaddressfromthisyear’sseniorclasspresident.”
Untilnow,thestudentshadbeensittingpolitelythroughtheprincipal’saddress,butnowtheystarttowhisperexcitedlytooneanother.
Myheart,whichhadstutteredtoahalt,picksupagain.
Afamiliarfiguresstepsfromthewings.Jaewoo,KaraokeBoy,K-popidol,andtheseniorclasspresidentofmyhighschool.Twelve
AtonepointduringJaewoo’saddresstothestudentbody,helooksdirectlyintothecrowdandIinstinctivelylowerintomyseat,whichisunnecessary.Hecan’tseeme,sittingasIaminthebackrow,farthestfromthestage.
Unlikewiththeprincipal,Ilistenattentivelytohisspeech.Hislow,smoothvoice,accentuatedbythemicatthepodium,fillsthehall.He’snotevensayinganythingthatinteresting—hiswordssoundrehearsed—andyeteveryoneisenraptured,givinghimtheirfullandcompleteattention.
“Classpresident,leadsingerofXOXO,handsome,andkind.WhatcanJaewoonotdo?”Angelasaysdreamily.
Answertexts,Ithinktomyself,thoughIdon’tsayitaloud.
“DidyouknowhewritesallthelyricsforXOXO’ssongs?”GiTaeksays.
Thatsurprisesme.ThoughIdon’tknowwhyitshould.
“Sometimesanotherwriteroranothermemberworkswithhim,”GiTaekcontinues,“buthe’screditedonalltheirsongs.”
“Nowonderhe’sthemostpopularinXOXO,”Angelasays.
ThistimeI’mnotsurprised.Ofcoursehewouldbe.
Jaewoofinisheshisspeechtodeafeningapplause,bowingbeforewalkingtothewings.Theprincipalthencomesbackouttointroducetheassembly’sguest,apianistfromEwhaWomansUniversity,anSAAalumnaafewyearsback,whoperformsamedleyofpianoarrangementsfrompopularKoreandramas.Afterward,we’redismissedtoourhomerooms.
MineisinABuilding,whichisbesidethestudentcenter,andattachedtothecafeteria.NeitherGiTaeknorAngelaareinmyhomeroom,butwedoshareafewotherclasses.Weagreetomeetforlunchbeforeheadinginoppositedirections.
Thehalloutsidemyhomeroomisalreadycrowded,studentscallingouttoeachotherandcatchingupafteralongwinterbreak.IspotSoriupahead,noticeablyaloneagain,andhurryinherdirection.
“Jenny-nuna!”Youngminbarrelstowardme,stoppingshortofcollision.“How’syourfirstdayofschoolgoing?Ifyoueverneedsomeonetopointyouintherightdirection,justaskme!”
Iblinkathim,surprisedthathe’stalkingtome.ThoughIdon’tknowwhyIshouldbe,hewassofriendlyintheuniformstore.Iglancearoundandafewpeoplearelookingatmecuriously,butmostaregrinningatYoungmin.
“Nicehair,Youngmin-ah,”someonesays,andInoticethathishaircolor’schangedsinceIlastsawhim,nowamidnightbluewhenbeforeithadbeencerulean.
“It’sgoinggreat,”Isay,oncehisattentionhasshiftedbacktome.“AndI’lldefinitelytakeyouuponthat.”
“Ifitisn’tJenny,”alowvoicesaysinEnglish.Nathaniel.
Ishifttofacehim.I’mabouttoanswerinkindwhenInoticeSoridownthehall.Atthesametime,shemeetsmygaze.Quicklysheturnsawayandentersaclassroom.
“Issomethingthematter?”Nathanielasks.
“No…”Foramoment—beforeshelookedaway—therewasanexpressiononherfacethatIhadn’texpectedtosee.Misery.“It’snothing.What’syourhomeroom?”
“ClassroomB.”
“Minetoo.”Isighinrelief.It’llbenicetohaveonefriendlyfaceinhomeroom.
“Ai—shh,”avoicegroansfrombehindme.“It’sonlythefirstdaybackandI’malreadywornout.”
Ifreezeinplace.
Infrontofme,Youngmin’seyeslightup.“Jaewoo-hyeong!Wemissedyouthismorning.”
“Ah,yeah,Imeanttotakethevanwithyou,butSunwantedmetolistentoatrackinthestudio.”
“Yourspeechwasinspiring,”Nathanielsays,deadpan.
“Iwroteitforyou,”Jaewooreplies,notmissingabeat.
“HaveyoumetJenny?”Youngminsays.
“Jenny?”
Iknewthismomentwouldhappeneventually,butIthoughtitwouldbesomewherelesspublic,oratleastcomeasasurprisesothatIwouldn’thavetimetofreakout,likeIamnow.
Itakeadeepbreathandturnaround.
Oureyesmeet.Hiswidenslightly,andit’slikeIcanseeamillionthoughtsflitacrosshisfaceinthespaceofasecond.Thenhisexpressionshutters.“Ah,”hesays.“Nicetomeetyou.”
Myheartsinks.Ididn’tthinkhe’dbehappytoseeme,notafterthewayheignoredmytexts,butIdidn’tthinkhe’dpretendwe’dnevermet.
“WeranintoJennyattheuniformstoretheotherday,”YoungmininformsJaewoo,whonodsabsently.“She’sfromLA.”
“Isthatright?”HeturnstoNathaniel.“Ihavetogopickupsomethingfromtheoffice.”Headds,asanafterthought,“Fixyourtie.You’llgetdemeritsonthefirstdayback.”
Ithinkhe’stalkingtome,butthenNathanielsays,“It’snotlikethey’llkickmeout.”
“Onecanhope.”
Andthenhe’sgone,walkingdownthehallwithoutabackwardglance.
“I’mgoingtobelatetoclass!”Youngminsays.“Bye,Jenny,Nathaniel-hyeong!”HegallivantsoffintheoppositedirectiontoJaewoo.
“That’sourclassroom,”Nathanielpointsafewdoorsdown.“Shallwe?”
Ifollowhim,thoughI’mnotreallypayingattentiontowhereI’mgoing.Whatjusthappened?InallthescenariosI’dimaginedforoursecondmeeting,IneverthoughtJaewoowoulddismissme.It’slikeinthisnewsetting,he’sacompletelydifferentperson.
“Jenny?”Nathaniel’swaitingforme,slidingbackthedoortotheclassroom.“Youcoming?”
“Yeah.”Ihurryforward.
Inside,theclassroomislaidoutwithrowsofdesksfacingawhiteboard.Theteacherhasn’tyetarrived,soIchecktheseatingchartonthepodiumatthefrontoftheroom.I’mseatedarowfromtheback,nexttothewindows.AsIapproachmydesk,Inoticethatalltheseatsarepairedintwos,andmyseatmateisnoneotherthanSori.SheappearsasthrilledasIamatthisturnofevents.
“Goodmorning,”Isay.AtleastIcanattemptanewstart.
Sheturnsherheadtolookoutthewindow.
Isigh,pullingoutmyseat.Ontheoppositesideoftheclassroom,Nathanielisseatedbyatall,lankyboywhoisengaginghiminanimatedconversation.
Everyoneseemstobetalkingtotheirseatmates,exceptforSoriandme.IwonderifwecouldhavebeenfriendsifIhadn’tbumpedintoherdeskandreadthemessageonthatpostcard.
Amessagethathadbeensigned:XOXO.Whichcouldeitherbeawell-usedsignoffor…asecrethiddeninplainsight.
Igothroughthepossiblecandidates.Youngmin’stooyoung,Ican’tseeit.Sunmaybe,buthewasn’tinthehallwayjustnow,whenIcaughtsightofSori’sexpression.Also,theendofthepostcardwaswritteninEnglish,notKorean.WhichleavesJaewooandNathaniel.IlookoveratNathaniel,who’scurrentlylaughingandjokingwithhisseatpartner,thecompleteoppositeofmyroommate.SoriandJaewooshareatleastonethingincommon:Atanygivenmoment,Ihavenoideawhateitherofthemarethinking.
Myphonechirpsinmypocket.Islipitouttoseeatextfrommymom.
Ipaidtheschoolyourtuition.Myscholarshiponlyaccountedforhalf.Letmeknowifthereareanyissues.
Itextback,Okay.Thanks,Mom.
No,“hopeyou’rehavingagoodfirstdayofschool,”butthat’snotasurprise.
I’mabouttoputmyphoneaway,whenIhesitate.Iopenupmymessagesandscrollbacktoafewdaysago,towhenIsentthetextmessagetoJaewoothatIwascomingtoSeoul.
Hey,so,I’mactuallygoingtobeinKoreaforacoupleofmonthstovisitmygrandmother.Ifyou’rearound,I’dlovetoseeyou.
Themessageisnowmarked“read.”
Iblinkafewtimes.Butwhendidhereadit?Afewdaysagoorjustnowwhenhesawmeinthehall?
SoribumpsmehardintheshoulderandIlookuptoseeagirlstandinginfrontofmydesk,tappinghershoeagainstthefloor.
“Youhavetoweartheuniformcorrectly,”shesays,pointingtomysloppytie,“otherwisethewholeclassroomwillbepenalized.”
Issheserious?IlookoveratSori,butshe’sgonebacktostaringoutthewindow.
“Hurry,”thegirlsays,“youstillhaveafewminutes.”
Iscrambleupfrommyseat.
Outsideintheemptyhall,Ipickadirectionatrandom,hopingtostumbleuponabathroom.Icursemypastselfwhohadn’tcarefullyreadtherulebook.I’mgoingtobelateformyfirstdayofclass.
“Student!”Ateacherapproachesdownthehall,andIsighinrelief.Hecanhelpme—“Youneedtobeinyourclassroomrightnow!”
Istareathim,confusedwhyhe’ssoangry.“IwastoldIneededtofixmytie—”Ibegin.
“Yourclassroom,now!”He’sliterallyyellingatme,spittleflying.
“Youdon’tunderstand.I’manew—”
“GETTOYOURCLASSROOM!”
AndnowI’monthevergeoftears.Whyisheshoutingatme?“But—”
“Seonsaengnim.”Jaewooappearsfromoutofnowhere,addressingtheteacherbyhistitle.“She’sanewstudent.Iwasshowinghertoherclassroom.”
Suddenlytheteacherisallsmiles.“Ah,Jaewoo-ssi.Ofcourse.”
Jaewoogiveshimaclose-lippedsmile,bowingastheteacherwalksaway.Hethenpresseshishandlightlyagainstmyback,leadingmetoadoorthathepushesopen.
We’reinastairwell,lightfilteringinthroughaskylightaboveus.Istepforward,takingdeepbreaths.WhenI’vecomposedmyself,IturntofaceJaewoowho’snowleaningagainstthedoor.
“Areyouallright?”heasksinEnglish.
“Yeah,”Isay.“Thanksfor…”Iwaveinthedirectionofthehallwayinagesturethat’smeanttoencompasseverything.
“Heshouldn’thaveyelledatyou,”hesaysgently.
Istareathim,wary.He’sactinglikehedidbackinLA,acompleteone-eightyfrompretendinglikewe’dnevermet.
“Whyweren’tyouinyourhomeroom?”heasks.
“Agirltoldmeifmyuniformbrokeregulationsthewholeclasswouldbepenalized.”
Jaewoooffersasympatheticsmile.“Shewasjustmessingwithyou.”
That’ssomean!I’manewstudent!Whydidn’tSorisayanything?
“Still,”Jaewoosays,“uniformviolationswillgetyoupointsoffyournexttest,thatoryou’llbemadetorunaroundthetrackfieldafewtimes.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Wow,Koreanschoolsareprettystrict.
“Thetruthis…”Ikickmyfeetagainstthefloor.Thisisembarrassing.“Idon’tknowhowtotieatie.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Heshakeshishead.“WhatkindofeducationwereyougettingintheStates?”
“Apublicschooleducation.”
Hestepsawayfromthedoor,hishandsreachingformycollar.Slowly,heloosensthesloppyknotI’dmanagedthismorning.Asmallcreaseformsbetweenhisbrowsasheconcentrates.Undoingtheknot,heevensoutthesidesofthetie.Slidingonesidedown,hisknucklesbrushmyshirt.Isuckinasharpbreath.
“Sorry,”hesays,handsgoingstillforamoment.Hebiteshislip,thencontinues,Adam’sapplebobbing.
Hemakesanewknotbyslippingthetiethroughaholeandpullinggently.
Iobservehimasheworks.UnlikewhenImethiminLA,he’snotwearingmakeup.Helooksyoungerwithoutit,butjustashandsome.Hisleftarmisalsoclearlynotbrokenanymore,asheuseshislefthandtoholdthetieinplace,tighteningtheknot.Thetattoosonhiswristaregonetoo.
“Whatareyoudoinghere,Jenny?”heaskssoftly.
“IswearIdidn’tfollowyou,”Isay.
Hepausesinhismovements.Heblinksonce,twice,thenlaughs.“I’mnotasself-absorbedasthat.Notyet,atleast.Imeant,whatareyoudoinghereinKorea,atthisschool?”
Ifrown.“Didn’tyougetmytext?”
“Whattext?”
“TheoneIsentyou,youknow,whereItoldyouIwasgoingtobeinSeoulforafewmonths.”
Hesighs,doesonemorepullonmytie,thendropshishands.“Myphonewasconfiscated.AfterthatnightinLA,mymanagertookitaway.Iwasgivenacompanyphoneaweeklater,withapprovedcontacts.Whatdidyousay?”
“Guessyou’llneverknow.”
Nowit’shisturntofrown.
Ididn’tsayanythingthatrevealing,butI’lllethimstewincuriosityforonce.Aboveus,theschoolbellrings.
“Webettergo,”Isay.
“I’llwalkyoutoclass.”
Weexitthestairwellandheadbackdownanowemptyhall.
“I’msorry,”Jaewoosaysaftertakingafewsteps,“fornottextingyou.I…wantedto.”
Istudyhimoutofthecornerofmyeye.Hislipsarepressedtogether,hisexpressionconflicted.
“Whydidyoupretendlikeyoudidn’tknowmeearlier?”Iask.
“Ididn’twantpeopletoknowwe’vemetbefore.Itrustmyclassmates,butrumorshavestartedfromless.Ifitwasjustmetoconsider…”
Wereachthedoortomyclassroom.Inside,Icanseethefigureofanadultatthepodium.“Jenny,”Jaewoostopsme.“Thethingis”—hewatchesmecarefully,gaugingmyreaction—“wedon’thavetopretendwedon’tknoweachother.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Whenit’sjust…youandme.”
“Likesecretfriends?”
Herubsthebackofhisneck.“Imean,whenyouputitthatway,itsoundsbad.”
IwonderifIshouldbeoffended.ImeannormallyIwouldbe,butI’msureheprobablyhasmorethingsinhislifetoconsiderthanafriendshipwithsomerandomgirlfromLA—hisreputationasanidol,forone.
“Igetit,”Isay.“Thingsaren’texactlynormalforyou.”
“Yeah,”hesays,atentativesmileonhislips.
Still,Idon’thavetoagreetoasecretfriendship,notwhenIhavepeopleinmycornerwillingtobemyfriend,likeAngelaandGiTaek.EvenNathanielandYoungminhavebeenfriendly,andinpublictoo.WhatmakesJaewooandmyrelationshipsodifferent?Isitbecausehe’stheclasspresident,themostpopularmemberinthegroup,a“prince”innicknameandreputation?
Maybeit’smyhurtpride,butIhaveenoughonmyplaterightnow—adjustingtoanewschool,gettingintoatopmusicschoolofmychoice.Idon’tknowifIwanttoputintheenergyintofiguringhimout.
“Asforbeingfriends…”Istepcloser,andheleansin,almostinstinctively.“I’llthinkaboutit.”
Hissmiledrops.
Reachingforthedooroftheclassroom,Islideitback.Thirteen
Asexpected,everyoneturnswhenIentertheclassroomfiveminutesafterthebellrings.Theteacherlooksatalossforwords,probablyunabletocomprehendhowastudentwouldbelateonthefirstdayofschool.
“She’satransferstudent,”Jaewoosays,enteringtheclassbehindme.“Shewaslost.”Ilookathim,surprisedthathe’scomeinsidewithme.
“Andyoufoundher,”theteachersayswarmly.“Wewouldn’texpectanythinglessfromourclasspresident.”
Jaewooapproachesthepodium,passingbyme.Reachingintohisschoolbag,hepullsoutafolderandhandsittotheteacher.“Thesearethepapersyouaskedmetopickupfromtheoffice.”
Hebows,andinsteadofwalkingbackoutthedoor,headsdowntheaisleofseats,takingoneinthebackrow,farthesttotheright.
It’stheseatdirectlybehindmine.
Whichmeanshe’sinmyclass.Hedoesn’tlookatme,restinghischinonhishandashelooksoutthewindow.Evenfromthefrontoftheclassroom,Icanseethesmirkonhisface.
“Jenny,”theteachersays,“whydon’tyouintroduceyourselftotheclass?”
OhmyGod,forcedpublicspeakingistheabsoluteworst.
Itakeadeepbreath.“MynameisJennyGo,”Ibegin.“I’mseventeenyearsold…”Afewofthestudentsinthefrontrowfrown,andIrememberthatinKorea,you’reconsideredoneyearoldthedayyou’reborn,anddependingonyourbirthday,couldbeonetotwoyearsolderthanyourAmericanage.I’mnotquickenoughtofigureoutmyKoreanagesoIsaytheyearIwasborninstead.Everyonenodsinunderstanding.“I’moriginallyfromLosAngeles,California.AndI’macellist.”
Finished,Ilookattheteacher,whoseemstobewaitingforsomething.Ibow
“Perfect!”Theteachersays,“Baksu!”Sheclapsherhandsandtherestofthestudentshalf-heartedlyjoinher.“Youcantakeyourseatnow.”
Well,IguessafterthatintroductioneveryonenowknowsthatI’maninternationaltransferstudent,andthey’llbemoreforgivingofanyculturalfauxpasonmypart.
Ornot.Irememberthatgirlwho’dliedabouttheuniformviolation.Shewassittinginthefrontrowduringmyintroduction,andthewholetimesheandherseatmatehadbeenlookingmeupanddownandrollingtheireyes.
AsItakemyseat,IglanceatJaewoo,buthe’sstilllookingoutthewindow
Infrontofhim,Sorimimicshisposeexactly,notacknowledgingmeasIpulltheseatoutbesideher.
Therestofhomeroomisspentgoingoverclassexpectationsfortheyearandassigningchores.Apparentlythestudentstaketurnscleaningtheclassroom.Theteacheralsomentionstheseniorshowcase,whichhappensinJune.Eachprogramheadwillsharefurtherdetailswhenwemeetwithourrespectivedepartmentsafterlunch.Imakeapointtoaskminethestepstoauditionforacellosolo.
Alittleafteranhour,thebellrings,signalingtheendofPeriod1.Mostofthestudentsremainseated;thenextclassisapparentlyadvancedKorean,aliteratureclass.Meandafewotherstudentspackupourthingstomoverooms.
“Jaewoo-yah.”Sorishiftsherlegssothatthey’refacingthewindow.
Theydoknoweachother,andnotjustknoweachother.Ifshe’susinghisnameinthatfamiliarway,thenthey’reclose.
Heglancesupfromwherehewasreadinghisschedule.“MinSori.”
“Whydidn’tyoutextmeback?”Whyissheonhislistofapprovednumbers?
“Sorry,Ileftmyphoneatthestudio,”Jaewoosays.“What’sup?”
“Icongratulatedyouonyourperformancelastnight.”Iglanceinherdirection,butherfaceisturnedaway.It’ssubtle,butthere’sahitchedqualitytohervoice.“OnMusicNet.”
“Oh,thanks.”
“You’llfindyourphone,won’tyou?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’tignoremytexts,”shesayssoftly.
Iquicklyfinishmypackingandpracticallyfleefrommyseat.NathanielcatchesmyarmasI’mwalkingoutthedoor.
Ialmostforgotabouthim,whichiswild.HowcouldanyoneforgetaboutNathaniel?
“What’syournextclass?”heasks.
“Ihavestudyhall,butIguessEnglish.”SinceKoreanliteratureistooadvancedformeandEnglishlanguageistooeasy,LACHSAislettingmedoanonlineversionoftheirEnglishliteraturecourse.
“Andafterthat?”Heshakeshishead.“Youknowwhat,whydon’tyoutextmeyourschedule.”Hehandsmehisphone.
Istareatit,stillalittledazedfromwhatIjustwitnessed.AlsothesettingsonhisphoneareallinKorean.
“Oh,sorry,here.”Heopensupthenewcontactinfopage.“Justtypeinyournumber.I’llfillintherest.”
Afterward,hetakesitbackandtypesinEnglish“JennyGo”allononeline
AsIleavetheclassroom,IcatchsightofLiarGirlandherfriends—aboyandgirl—glaringatme.Honestly,atthispoint,Icouldn’tcareless.
IspendafewminutesofmystudyhallreadingthesyllabusmyEnglishteachersendsover,andtherestofitwonderingifJaewoowastheonewhosentSorithepostcard.Ifso,thenwhydidhehangoutwithmeinLA?Andwhataboutearlierinthehall,whenheaskedtobesecretfriends?HowwouldSorifeelaboutthat?HowdoIfeelaboutthat?
Notgreat.
ThelastperiodbeforelunchisPEandIquicklyrushbacktothedormtochangebeforemeetingmyclassonthefield.
“Jenny!”Angelagreetsme,lookingadorableinpigtailsandapinkhoodieoverheruniformsweats.It’sfreezingoutsideandmostofthestudentsarerunninginplaceordoingjumpingjackstowarmthemselvesup.“I’msogladwehavethisclasstogether!”
“Metoo,”Isay,especiallywhenIcatchsightofLiarGirlandherfriends.AndSori,thoughshestandsapart,whichseemstobehergeneralstateofbeing.
“Who’sthat?”Angelaasks,followingmygaze.“She’ssopretty.”
“MinSori,”oneofourclassmatesanswers,agirlwithpurple-tintedhair.“She’satraineeatJoahEntertainment.”
Sothat’showsheknowsJaewoo.Alsomaybewhyshe’sanapprovedcontactinhisphone.
“Ienvyher,”Angelasighs.
“Oh,yeah?”Thegirlsmirks.“Waituntilyouhearwhohermotheris.”Thegirlpausesdramatically.
Idon’tgiveherthesatisfactionofasking.
Angela—ontheotherhand—isnotpetty,likeme.“Who?”
“SeoMinHee,theCEOofJoahEntertainment.”
Angelagasps.“Herlifeissoblessed.ThoughI’msureshewouldhavegottenintoJoahevenwithoutthatconnection.”
IaspiretobeassweetasAngelawhenIgrowup.Thegirl,however,doesn’tseemtosharemyfeelingsandheadsovertojoinherfriends.
Todaywe’rerunningtheKoreanequivalentof“themile,”whichisfourlapsaroundthetrack.I’mfinewiththefirstlap,huffingandpuffingafterthesecond,breathingheavilyafterthethird,andthenalmostdeadbythefourth,collapsingonthelawnwiththestudentswho’dfinishedaheadofme.Angela’sstillrunning,soafterashortbreak,Iwalkovertothewaterfountainattheedgeofthefieldtowashup.
LiarGirlisalreadytherewithherfriend.Inordertoavoidthem,Igototheothersideofthefountain,splashingcoldwaterontomyfacefromthespigotthatshootsthewaterintoashallowbasin.Liftingmyhead,oureyesmeet.Thisclose,Icanreadthenametagonheruniform:KimJina.
Whileholdingmygaze,shenudgesherfriendandsayssomethinginKorean.
Ifrown,notquiteunderstanding.Yetwithhowloudshespoke,Iwasclearlymeanttohear.
Herfriendglancesoveratme,andthensayssomethingback,andthenitclicks.
They’repurposefullyspeakinginslang,sothatIwon’tunderstand.
Atmyconfusedexpression,theystarttolaugh.TheythenexchangeafewmorewordsandtheseIcanrecognizebecausecursewordsaresomeofthefirstwordsyoulearninanylanguage.
Iwalkawaywithmyfacedrippingwater,thegirls’laughtertrailingbehindme.
Ifeelanoddsortofdisconnectwithmymind.Mywholebodyisshaking,hotwithfrustrationandfury.AndallIwanttodoislashout,butwhatwouldIevensay?I’mnotfluentenoughtocursesomeoneoutinKorean,whichiswhatIwanttodo.Andtheywouldn’tunderstandmeifIdiditinEnglish.They’djustlaughmore,andI’dfeellikeanevenbiggerloser.
AnditsucksbecauseusuallyI’mprettygoodatdefendingmyselfwhentherareoccasionpresentsitselfforagoodput-down.Mymom,animmigrantwithanaccent,knewthepoweroflanguage,whichtoherwaslikeaweapontouseagainstpeoplewhoclaimedshedidn’tbelong.That’swhyshebecamealawyer.
Andnowtheweaponoflanguageisbeingusedagainstme,butinadifferentcountry.
“I’msoooogross,”Angelasays,walkingtowardme,herpigtailsdrooping,“andnowwehavetogotolunch.”Shefrownswhenshecatchessightofmyface.“Areyouokay?”
Inod,refusingtoletJinaandherfriendruinmyday.“I’mfine.Iamstarvingthough.”
“Metoo,”Angelasays.“Let’sheadoverbeforethelinesgettoolong.”
Thecafeteriaislocatednexttothestudentcenter,acrossfromthedorms.Eventhoughwearrivefiveminutesbeforelunchofficiallystarts,there’salreadyalineformingoutsidethecafeteriawindow.Amenuonthemonitorabovethestationshowsthedifferentmealsetoptionstochoosefrom:bulgogipattyset,grilledmackerelset,andbraisedtofuset,allofwhichcomewithbanchanandwhateverthesoupofthedayis.Today’ssoupissigeumchi-guk,spinachboiledinanoystersoupbase.
Asstudentsorderandretrievetheirtrays,thelongtablesinthecafeteriabegintofill.Peoplealsoarrivefromthestudentcenter,whereawalkwayconnectstothecafeteria,bringingwiththemfoodpurchasedatthesnackbarandconveniencestore.
AtonepointAngelastopsanIndiangirlwho’spassingbyandintroducesherasAnushya,herroommate.She’sBritishIndianandfromBristol.WechatabitinEnglishaboutmovingtoSeoul—she’sbeenherefortwoyears—andthenaboyfromatablenearbycallsheraway.ThoughSAAisn’taninternationalschool,Iwassurprisedtofindoutfromthewebsitethatthere’sagoodamountofinternationalstudents,maybeone-fifthofthestudentbody.
Afterweretrieveourtrays—Ichoosethebulgogipattyset,Angelathemackerelset—wesearchforGiTaekamongthechaosofstudents.
“Iseehim!”Angelasays,holdinghertraywithonehandandpointingacrossthecafeteriatowhereGiTaeksitsaloneatoneofthelongtables,watchingavideoonhisphone.Wehurryoverandjoinhim.
Hepausesthevideo,whichaquickglanceshowstobeoneonchoreography.“How’syourfirstdayofschool?”heasks.“IseeyoubothcamefromPE.”UnlikeAngelaandIinoursweats,he’sstillwearinghisuniformfromtheassembly.
“Great!”Angelasays,takingtheseatacrossfromhim.“Ihadhomeroomwithyouandthenmath.”Shemakesaface.
“Studyhallforme,”Isaysittingtohisright.“I’mtakingclassesthroughmyschoolintheStates.”
“Well,IhadEnglishandKoreanback-to-back,”GiTaeksays.“Mybrainisfried.”
Ipickupapieceofacornjellywithmychopsticks,ploppingitintomymouth.“So,whathappensafterlunch?”IknowhowitworksatLACHSA,butI’mcuriousifit’sdifferenthere.
“Weswitchfromacademicstothearts,”GiTaeksays.“You’reacellist,soyou’llgotoorchestra.I’madancemajor,soI’llheadovertotheperformingartsstudio,andyou…”HepointsatAngela.“YougotothestudioatNeptune,right?”
Shenods,thoughsheseemspreoccupied,afrownonherface.
“Traineeswhoalreadyhavecontractswithmanagementlabelsgettheirartscreditsfromtheircompanies,”heexplainstome.
“Aren’tyougoingtoeat?”Angelablurtsout,andInoticethatGiTaekdoesn’thavelunch.
Heshrugs.“I’monadiet.”
“Butyoushouldn’tskipmeals…”Angelasays.
“MindifIjoinyou?”Nathanielpullsoutthechairacrossfromme,droppinghistrayonthetable.
I’dthinkthewide-eyedexpressionsonGiTaek’sandAngela’sfacescomicalifIprobablydidn’thaveasimilaroneonmyface.
It’snothisappearancethatsurprisesmesomuchastowhyheseemstokeepseekingmeout.Aglimpsearoundattheothertablesshowsafewstudentstakingnotice.Doeshejustnotcareabouthisreputation,likeJaewoodoes?Maybehavingalreadyhadascandal,hedoesn’thavemuchtolose.
WhenIturnmyattentionbacktothetable,InoticeGiTaekandAngelaseemtobetryingtocommunicatesomethingtomewiththeirminds.
“Nathaniel,”Isay,“doyouknowAngelaandGiTaek?”
“Yeah.”HepointsatGiTaekwithhisspoon.“Dancer,right?”
“Yes.”GiTaeknodsvigorously.NathanielthenturnstoAngelaandliftshishand.“Idon’tknowyou,though.Myname’sNathaniel.Nicetomeetyou.”Shetakesthetipofhisfingersbetweenbothherhands.Aftershedropsthem,helaughs,shakeshishead,andreturnstohisfood,whichheeatswithgusto.
GiTaeklooksbetweenNathanielandme.“Howdoyoutwoknoweachother?”
WhenNathanieldoesn’tlooklikehe’sgoingtoanswer—hismouthfulloffood—Iexplain,“WemetattheuniformstorewhenIwenttogopickupmine.”
Angelasitsforwardinherseat.“Didyouknowwhohewas?”
“Notthen.”
“Butnowyoudo,”sheprompts.
“Imean,sure.Iwatchedyourmusicvideo,”Iinformhim.
“Ohyeah?”Nathanielsays.“What’dyouthink?”Nowit’smyturntogetthespoonpointedatme.“Couldn’ttakeyoureyesoffme,couldyou?”
Angelagiggles.
“Yeah…”Isay,thoughit’snotNathaniel’spartinthemusicvideothatreplaysinmyhead.That’sreplayedinmyheadsincethefirsttimeIsawit.
There’sastirattheentranceofthecafeteria.
IlookuptoseeJaewoowalkintothecafeteria…withSori.
I’veneverseenamorestrikingpair.Theylookliketheysteppedoutofacatalogue.
“IsitweirdifItakeapicture?”Angelaasks.“Likeasasouvenirformyself.I’veneverseensuchgreatvisuals.”
“Iwouldn’t,”GiTaeksays,answeringherseriously.“Whatifthatpicturegotoutsomehow?Itcouldcreateascandal.Imean,doyouremember—”Hecutsoffabruptly,lookingstricken.
Nathanielglancesupfromhistray.IstareatGiTaek,whosefacehasgonecompletelywhite.
“What’swrong?”Iask.
“Nothing,”GiTaeksays.“It’snothing.”
Nathanielputsdownhisspoonandsitsbackinhischair,anamusedexpressiononhisface.
IhaveadistinctimpressionthatI’mmissingsomethinghere.
“Iguessyouwouldn’tknow,”Nathanielsighs.“MinSoriandIdatedforsixmonthsbeforehermotherfoundoutandforcedustobreakup.”
“OhmyGod,”Isay.
Heshrugs.“Messedup,right?”
Nathanielisthewriterofthepostcard.Reliefwashesoverme,quicklyfollowedbyguilt.Severaltimestoday,IcaughtSorilookingover.IthoughtsomethingwasoffaboutherexpressionandyetIwasmorejealousthansympathetic.
Evennow,shecan’tkeephereyesoffourtable;thelookonherfacecanonlybedescribedasmiserable.
Thepostcarddidn’tevensoundlikeJaewoo,nowthatIknowwhowroteit.RememberingthewordsinEnglishattheendofthepostcard,Ifillinhisnameattheend.
Chinup,Songbird.
Youwillalwayshavemyheart.
XOXO
NathanielFourteen
Therestofthedayisablur.Afterlunch,Iattendorchestraensembleandmeetwithmycelloinstructorforsoloperformanceclass.Shehasmeplayafewscalesandmycompetitionpiecefromlastfall.I’malittlerustyfromnotpracticingforoveraweek.Thenshegivesmeascheduletosignupforhoursintheacademy’spracticerooms.WhenIbringuptheshowcase,shetellsmewewon’tstartpreparingourpiecesuntillateApril.
Afterclass,GiTaekandIdecidetograbaquickdinnerdownthestreetatSubway,sinceAngela’sstillatrehearsal.
Backinthedorms,Itakealong,hotshower,thenwrappedinonlyatowel,Isprintdowntothehalltomyroom.IcantellSori’sbackbecausethelightsareonwhenIopenthedoor.Asperusual,shedoesn’tlookupfromadancevideoshe’swatchingonYouTube.
Puttingonmypj’s,IpickoutasheetmaskfromthesetoftenHalmeoniboughtme,slippingoutthedewymaskfromthepackageandplacingitcarefullyontomyface.Ithenplopdownontothebed,phoneinhand,layingatoweloverthepillowtoprotectitfrommywethair.Honestly,there’snothingbetterthanself-careafteralongday.
Puttinginmyearbuds,Ipickupmyphone.ThebrowseropenstothelastthingIgoogled,rightafterlunchbeforeIhadtorushovertoorchestra.
Nathaniel.XOXO.Scandal.
IglancethroughthebookshelfdividertowhereSori’sstillwatchingvideos.IsitweirdthatI’mgooglingmyroommate?It’snoneofmybusiness.
Except,itiskindofmybusiness,sinceIlivewithher.Oratleast,that’swhatItellmyself.
Iclickonthefirstlink.BackinNovember—aroundthetimeXOXOwasinLAshootingthemusicvideofor“Don’tLookBack”—BulletinhadreleasedphotosofXOXO’sNathanielwitha“mysterioustrainee”fromJoahEntertainment.Photosofthemwalkingdownadarkstreetholdinghands.PhotosofthemleavingNathaniel’sdorm,whereheliveswiththeotherXOXOmembers.PhotosoftheminNathaniel’scar.Thefaceofthegirlinthephotoisblurredout,butnowthatIknowheridentity,it’sclearthemysterioustraineeisSori—samebody,samehair.Sameclothes.Icanseethepinkbomberjacketinonephotohangingontheclothingrackinourroom.
IwonderifJoahEntertainmentpaidBulletinnottorevealSori’sidentity.SheisthedaughteroftheCEO.Eitherthatortheyweren’tlegallyableto,Soribeingaminorand,asatrainee,notyetapublicfigure.
“Jenny?”
Ialmosttumbleoutofbedinalarm.Soristandsbyherdesk,onehandonhernow-closedlaptop,asshelooksoverinmydirection.
“Yes?”ThankGodmyvoicesoundslikeIhaven’tjustbeenstalkingherontheinternet.
“Nevermind.”Shemovestowardthedoorwaytoturnoffthelight.
Ialmostcalloutforhertowait.DoesshewanttoaskmeaboutNathaniel?Icouldeasehermind,thatI’mnotinterestedinhim,thatthepersonIaminterestedinisspendingmoretimewithherthanme.Oh,andthathethinksI’mashamefulsecret.
Instead,Isaynothingassheshutsoffthelightandclimbsintobed.Itakeoffmysheetmaskandplaceitonmynightstandtothrowawayinthemorning.
She’snotasnorersoit’ssilentintheroom.Ican’ttellifshe’sasleeporif—likeme—she’slookingattheceiling,dizzywiththoughts.
IwanttoaskSoriaboutherself.What’sitliketobeatraineeatJoahEntertainment?DidshealwayswanttobeaK-popstarorwasitsomethingshehadtodo,becauseofwhohermotheris?
Whyisshealwaysaloneatschool?Ihaven’tseenherspeaktoanyonebesidesJaewoo.Whydidsheevenoptforhavingaroommatewhenshecouldhavehadasingle?WasshehopingthatI,saidroommate,couldhavebeenafriend?Anally?Aconfidante?
HadIruinedthatwhenIreadthatpostcard?Atthismoment,Idon’tthinkI’veregrettedanythingmoreinmylife.
MostofallIwanttoaskherwhatit’slike,tolovesomeonewhomyoucanneverhave.Nottosayshewasinlove….
OrthatIam.
Iwonderifshewouldhaveeverstarted,ifsheknewhowitwouldallend..
ThisisthelastthoughtIhaveasIdriftintooblivion.
Sori’salarmgoesoffatfivethenextmorning.Ilieinbed,listeningtohergetready,changingintoworkoutclothesandslippingoutthedoor,duffelbaginhand.
Unlikeyesterday,thecafeteriaisopenforbreakfastandIjoinableary-eyedGiTaekandAngelaatoursametablefromyesterday.They’resharingapackageofmorningrollsfromtheconveniencestore.GiTaekpassesmeoneandInibbleonitasmyeyesscantheroom.
“ThemembersofXOXOwon’tbeheretoday,”GiTaeksays,asifreadingmymind.“Theyhaverehearsalsfromninetoeleven,thenatapingfromtwotofour.”
“Howdoyouknowthat?”Iask.Thatinformationseemedveryspecific.
“It’sontheirfancafé.”
Idon’tevenwanttoaskwhatthatis.
Still,Ican’thelpfeelingdisappointedthatIwon’tseeeitherJaewooorNathanielatschooltoday.IcanfeelmyshouldersdroopingasIwalkintoclassandspottheiremptydesks.Sori’salreadyseated,soIheadonover,gladthatI’mneitherlatenorincorrectlydressed—Angelaletmeborrowherelastictie—ontheseconddayofschool.
Thefirstclassismath,whichisan“experience,”asit’staughtinKorean.Luckily,theunitisoneI’dalreadycoveredatLACHSAandImanagetosolvetheproblemwhentheteachercallsmetotheboard.
Afterward,Ihavestudyhall/history.AsI’mpackingupmythings,Jinawalksover,followedbyaboy.Theymakeapointofhavingaloudconversationinfrontofmydesk.
They’respeakinginslangagain,butIrecognizeafewwords,namelybitchandslut.
Thisgirlistheliteralworst.It’slikeshe’sneverseenamovieorwatchedrealityTV.Doesn’tsheknow:themeaneryouare,theuglieryouget?
Soriabruptlystandsup,herchairfallingbackwardbehindher.Gatheringupherbooks,shefleesfromtheclassroom.
Irealize,belatedly,thatIwasn’tthetargetoftheirtormentthistimearound.
Hurryingoutoftheclassroom,IcatchsightofSorialreadyhalfwaydownthehall.She’spushingopenthedoortothegirls’bathroom.
Ifollow,steppingasidetolettwogirlsexit.Theyglanceovertheirshoulders,whisperingtoeachother.Inside,theareabetweenthestallsandthesinkisempty.Thesoundofsnifflescomesfromthelaststall,theonlyonewithacloseddoor.
Iapproachandknockonthestalldoor.“Sori?Areyouokay?”Thesnifflesbecomemuffled,asifshe’sholdingahandtohermouth.“IheardwhatJinasaid.Thatwasn’tnice,norisittrue.”
ThedooropensandIstepback.Shemustbewearingwaterproofmascarabecausehermakeuplooksimmaculate,thoughthecornersofhereyesarered.“Howdoyouknowifit’snottrue?”
Damn.Shedoesn’tmakethiseasy.There’sananswerIcouldgiveher,that’seasiersaidinEnglish.Thatwordslike“bitch”and“slut”havebeenusedsystemicallytobelittlewomenandentrenchmisogynyinallculturesaroundtheworld,thatIwouldn’twantpeopletojudgemeorboilallmydecisionsdowntoasingleword,withoutnuanceorcontextorcompassion.
We’rejust…girls.Nomore,noless.ButbeforeIcanfigureouthowtosayanyofthisshesays,“Idon’tneedyourpity.”Sorishoulderspastmeandexitsthebathroomwithaslamofthedoor.Fifteen
I’malreadyexhaustedandtheday’snotevenhalfover.Ispendmostofstudyhallinthelibrary,alternatingmullingoverhowIcouldhavehandledthesituationwithSoribetterandmyfirstclassofdance.I’dbeenmeaningtotalktomycounseloraboutswitchingoutofit,sinceit’snotexactlyanelectiveI’dhavechosenformyself,buthaven’tyethadtheopportunity.
Still,it’stoolatetobackoutofthefirstdaysoIheadovertotheperformingartsbuilding,whichI’veneverbeenin,thoughIknowthisiswhereAngelaandGiTaekhavemostoftheirclasses.ThoughI’mearly,I’mnotthefirstthere.
Soristandsbythefloor-to-ceilingwindowsthatlinethebackoftheroom,ontheoppositesideofwhicharemirrors.She’swearingstylishactivewear,acroppedtankandbikershorts,whichIdidn’tknowwasanoption,otherwiseI’dhavedressedinsomethingbesidesmyPEclothes.
Soridoesn’tacknowledgeme,soIdropmyschoolbaginthecornerandsitonthefloortostretch.
Afewminutesofsilencepass,thenthedooropensagain.Iexpecttheteacheroranotherstudent,butNathanielstepsintotheroom.
“Fancyseeingyouhere,”hesaysinEnglish,thenhiseyestrailovermyshoulderandheseemstofreezeinplace.
ThroughthemirrorIcanseethatSorihasturnedfromthewindowathisentrance.Ihavethisweirdout-of-bodyexperiencewhereIcanseehiminfrontofmebythedoor,andherbehindmethroughthemirror,andtheexpressionsonbothoftheirfacesisfullofaninexplicableemotion,onethatiswaytoointimateformetowitness.Thenit’sliketheybothcloseoffatthesametime.
Nathanielgrins,likehehasn’tacareintheworld.
“MinSori.Howhaveyoubeen?”
Sheturnsabruptlybacktothewindow.“Don’tspeaktome.Don’tlookatme.Don’tevenbreathenearme.”
Heshutshismouth.Throwinghisbagagainstthewall,heplopsdownnexttome.
LikeSori,he’sdressedinstylishworkoutclothes.
“Ithoughtyouhadrehearsal,”Isay.
Heraisesasingleeyebrow.
“GiTaektoldme,”Iexplain.
“Ah,yes,GiTaek.”Hestretcheshislegsoutinfrontofhim,archinghisbackashelooksupattheceiling.“Ididhaverehearsal,butthenwedecidedtoheadbacktocampusinsteadofwaitingaroundinthevanforanhour.”
“We?”Isay.
Thedoorslidesopenagain.
“Jaewoo!”SorirushesfromthewindowtograbontoJaewoo’sarm.Thisseemsalittledramaticforher,seeingashowI’veneverheardheruseatoneofvoicethatwouldincludeanexclamationpointattheend.
JaewoolooksdownatSoriwithaquizzicalexpression,thenatNathaniel,whoshrugs.Thenhiseyeslandonme.
Aswitheverytimehelooksatme,myheartdoesasomersaultinmychest.
“Jaewoo,”Nathanielsays,“yourememberJenny,right?FromLA?Playsthecello.”
JaewooglancesatNathaniel,thenatme.“Whyareyoutakingdanceifyou’reacellist?”Hestartstotakeoffhislargepufferjacket.LikeNathaniel,he’sdressedinstylishsportswear,men’sjoggersandahoodie.
IrealizeinthismomentthatIhaveathingforguysandsportswear.Jaewoo’sblacksweatshirtclingslooselytohisshouldersandchest,hissweatpantsridinglowathiships.
“Whywouldn’tJennytakedance?”Nathanielsays,answeringforme,andalsoremindingmeofwhatwasasked.“Noteverythinghastobedoneforareason.Sometimesyoujustdothingsforthefunofit.”
JaewooandNathanielexchangealookandIwonderifthisisanoldargument.
Thedoorslidesopenforthethirdtimeandtherestofthestudentsentertheroom,followedbytheteacher.Sheclapsherhands.“Everyonemovetothesidesoftheroom,”shesayswithoutpreamble.
Thestudentshesitate,andit’sobviousthey’rewaitingtoseewhichsideoftheroomJaewooandNathanielheadtoward.Whentheymoveinoppositedirections,there’sthismomentwherethestudentsrealizethey’llhavetochoose,whichissortoflikechoosingyourfavoritememberinXOXO.
Thestudentseachstartheadingtowardoneortheothersideoftheroom,anditseemslikeanevensplit,untilonlySoriandIareleftstanding.Shelooksatme,tossesherhair,andmovestowardJaewoo’ssideoftheroom.
AndnowI’mjuststandingherealone,likethelastpersonpickedforadodgeballteam.
ExceptI’mtheonedoingthechoosing.IglanceoveratJaewoo,who’swatchingmewithanunreadableexpressiononhisface.
ThenIglanceatNathaniel,whobeckonsmeover.
Iguessthechoiceisclear.IshouldgowhereI’mwanted.IwalkovertoNathanielwhoshiftstothesidetomakeroomforme.
“Forthoseofyouwhodon’tknowme,”theteacherbegins,“mynameisMs.Dan.ThisisanelectiveclassforYearThree.Ifyouareadancemajor,youwillnotreceivecredittowardyourmajor,understood?”
“Yes,”allthestudentsreplyinunison.
“Perfect!Doesanyonewanttoreadtheclassexpectationsfromthesyllabus?”
AboyfromJaewoo’steam—Imean,sideoftheroom—volunteers.IlistencarefullyashereadsaloudfromoffMs.Dan’stablet.Forthemostpart,I’mfinewiththelessons,whicharebrokendownintogenresofdance,likeballetandjazz.I’mnotlookingforwardtothegroupprojectthough,wheregroupsoffourorfiveofuswillhavetoapickasongandchoreographadancetoit.
Luckily,Ms.Daninformsusthatchoreographywon’tstartuntilnextweeksowespendtherestofclassstretching.
“Whyareyouhangingoutwithme?”IaskNathaniel,who’sprettymuchonlytalkedtomesincetheclassstarted.Ontheothersideoftheroom,Jaewooispracticallyholdingcourtliketheprinceheis,dolingouthisattentionlikefavors.
IsNathanielusingmetomakeSorijealous?Thatseemsmean-spirited,especiallywithhowmuchIbelievehestillcaresforher.Thewayhelookedatherwhenhefirstenteredtheroomsaiditall.Theremustbeanotherreason.
“We’recountrymen,”hesays,andIrollmyeyes.“IliketopracticemyEnglish?”
“Idon’tbuyit.”
“Damn,Jenny.MaybeIliketohangoutwithyou’causeyoudon’ttakemybullshit.”
Ilaugh,butIwishhe’djusttellme.Itcan’tbejustthatI’mAmerican.ThereareotherkidsfromtheUShere.I’dliketothinkit’sbecausehejustlikesme—asafriend—butIdon’tknow,somethingabouthisattentionseemspointed.
Yetifit’snottomakeSorijealousthenwhydoeshekeepsinglingmeout?
“Jaewoo-yah!Whatareyoustaringat?”
IlookovertoseeJaewoo’sheadturntowardagirlwho’sapproachinghim.ThoughIlistencarefully,Ican’tmakeouthisresponsefromacrosstheroom.
Afterclass,everyonepacksupandleavesquickly,presumablytogetinthelunchline.WhenIlookover,Jaewoo’smovingasfastastherestofthem,thoughforadifferentreason.AccordingtoGiTaek’srecountingofXOXO’sschedule,hehasarecordingsessiontogetto.
“Seeyoulater,Jenny,”Nathanielcallsasherushesout.
Ipackmythingsatamuchslowerpace.Honestly,I’malittledisappointed.
Afterseparatingtooppositesidesoftheroom,JaewooandIspenttheentireclassapart.IknowIsaidI’d“think”aboutbeinghisfriend,butseeingasheignoredmeallclasstoday,andIpretendedto,whatwouldthatevenmean?
Itsuckswatchinghimtalktootherpeoplewhenhewon’ttalktome.Iknowitcan’tbethesameasitwasinLA,butImisshowitfeltthatnight,tohaveallhisattentiononme.
Iresolvetotalktomycounseloraboutswitchingoutofdanceclasssoonerratherthanlater.
Outsidethestudio,thehallisempty,allofthestudentshavinggonetolunch.AsImakemywaytowardtheelevator,adoortomyleftshiftsslightlyopen
“Psst,”avoicecallsout.
Iapproachthedoorslowly.“Jaewoo?”Iaskinsurprise.It’sdefinitelyhim,thoughhishoodisupandhisfaceisinshadows.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Isthereanyoneinthehall?”heasks.
Iglancearound.“No.”
“Good.”Hegrabsmyhandandpullsmein.Sixteen
“Firstastairwell,nowabroomcloset.”
“Ifyou’rethinkingofsmallplaceswe’vebeenin,”Jaewoosays,ahintofmischiefinhisvoice,“thestairwellwasn’tthefirst.”
Hisreferencetothepicturebooth,andthatmomentinside,makesmystomachdoallkindsoftwistsandturns.
“Istillhavethatstickerphoto,”Isay.
“Oh,yeah?”Heleansback,notquitetouchingtherackofcleaningsuppliesbehindhim.TheclosetissosmallthatifIweretospreadmyarms,Icouldtouchthedoorandthebackwall.“Doyouhaveitwithyou?Rightnow?”Hiseyesdrop,thenslowlymoveupward.It’sobviousthatifIhadthatpicture,itwouldbeinmybackpack,notonmyperson.Isthisanexcusetocheckmeout?
NormallyIwouldbethrilledifitwere,exceptthatI’mwearingmydecidedlyuncutePEclothes.
Notlikehim.Dressedtoimpress,eveninsweats.Speakingofwhich…
“Don’tyouhavearecordingtogoto?”Iask.
Hefrowns,clearlyconfused,thensays,“Oh,Nathanieltoldyou.”
Sure.
“Ihavesometime.Ourperformanceisn’tuntiltheendoftheshow,sotechnicallywedon’thavetobethereuntilthen.”
“Isee.”
“Still,it’spolitetogetthereearlyandstaythewholetime.”
Meaning,hereallyshouldbethere,butchosetostayherelonger,withme.
Myheartswellsinmychest,whichisnotexactlyhelpfulwhenI’mtryingtokeepalevelhead.Concentrate,Jenny.Don’tletthecuteboy’swordsdistractyoufromthetimeshe’sbrushedyouoffinthepast.
Outsideinthehall,voicesapproach.Webothlistencarefullyuntilthevoicesgrowdistant,disappearingaltogether.
“Iwantedtotalktoyou,”Jaewoosays,“aboutNathaniel.”
Iblink,surprised.“Whatabouthim?”
“Stayawayfromhim.”
Icrossmyarms.High-handed,much?
Hehurriestoexplain.“Lastfall,atabloidreleasedanarticleaboutNathaniel,thathewasdatingsomeone…”
“Iknow,”Isay.“Hetoldmeaboutit.”
“Hedid?”Jaewoolookssurprised.“Didhegiveanydetails?”
“JustthattheotherpersoninvolvedwasSori.”
Jaewoosighs.“Itcameatabadtime.Wewereonlysixmonthsoutfromourdebut,preparingtorelease“Don’tLookBack.”ThenwegotthenewsthatBulletindroppedthatbomb.Wehadtocancelshows,interviews.OfcourseitwastheworstforNathaniel.Notonlywasheforcedtobreakupwithhisgirlfriend,buthestoppedgettinginvitedtodosoloactivities,andhisSNSaccountswerefloodedwithhatecomments.”
It’shardtoimagineanyonegettingupsetenoughatanotherpersonfordatingandopenlyattackingthemforitontheirsocialmediaprofiles.EspeciallyNathaniel,who’ssofriendlyandeasygoing.
“Honestly,Idon’tknowhowhedoesit,”Jaewoosays.“Heclaimsnoneofitmatters,butitcan’tbeeasy.”
“AndSori?”Iask.“Whatwasthefalloutlikeonherside.”
“LuckilyhermotheristheCEOofJoahEntertainment,andshewasabletoforcethetabloidstobluroutSori’sfaceinthephotographs.Thereweresomerumorsatschool…butthat’sit.”
Well,notexactly.Evenifhercharacterwasn’tattackedbytrollsontheinternet,peoplelikeJina,andI’msureothers,bullyheratschool.I’vealsoonlyeverseenheralone.
“Okay,”Isay.“I’lltrytostayawayfromNathaniel.Forhissake,”Iclarify.“Notbecauseyoutoldmeto.Idon’twanttogethimintotrouble.”
IcanseenowthatJaewoo,unlikeNathaniel,isverycarefulwithhispublicimage,talkingtoeveryoneequallyandnotsinglinganyoneoutforspecialattention.Nathanielisthecompleteopposite.Hereallydoesn’tcare.
“It’snotjustoutofconcernforNathaniel,”Jaewoosays.
Evenwithonlythedimlightofthebulbaboveus,Icanseethehighcolorinhischeeks.
“Idon’twantyoutobefriendswithhim,”hesays.“Notinthewayyou’refriendswithme.”
Ittakesmeamomenttorealize…
He’sjealous.
“ImeanteverythingIsaid.”Helooksdown,unabletomeetmyeyes.“Butmymotivesaren’tentirelyselfless.”
Inthedistance,abellrings,signalingthatlunchhasofficiallystarted.
“Weshouldgo,”Jaewoosays,butneitherofusmoves.
IwonderifheseestheironythatinordertowarnmeawayfromapotentialscandalwithNathaniel,he’spullingmeintostairwellsandclosets.ButofcourseI’mnotgoingtopointthatouttohim.
AlockofhishairhasfallenforwardandIreachup,myfingerssweepingslowlyacrosshisbrow.
“Jenny…”Hiseyesareheavy-lidded,hislipsparted.Ashemovesclosertome,Igrabontothefrontofhishoodie,clutchingit.Justasmyeyesflutterclosed,thedoorswingsopen.Seventeen
Youngminstandsoutsidethedoor,hiseyestrailingfrommetoJaewoo.“WhyareyouinthebroomclosetwithJenny-nuna?”
I’mfrozeninplace,wonderinghowImustappearwithmyfaceflushed.IquicklyletgoofJaewoo’shoodie.LuckilyYoungmindoesn’tseemtonoticethemovement,hiseyesonJaewoo.
“Whydoyouthinkwe’reinhere?”Jaewoosays.
Ohboy.He’sstalling.
“Wereyoulookingforsomething?Isawthelightwason.Though…”Hefrowns.“Thatdoesn’texplainwhythedoorwasclo—”
“Youdyedyourhair!”Iinterrupt,pointingtoYoungmin’shead.Hishair,whichwasblueyesterday,isnowfire-truckred.“Itlooksgood!”
MydistractionseemstoworkbecauseYoungminbeams.“Thankyou!OurmanagersaysI’mtheonlyoneinthebandwhocanreallypullitoff.Hesentmetogetyou,Jaewoo-hyeong.WeweresupposedtohaveleftforEBCfifteenminutesago.”
“Oh,right,”Jaewoosays.“Weshouldn’tkeephimwaiting.”
IwonderifJaewooandIwilleveracknowledgewhatalmosttookplaceinthebroomcloset,orif,likebefore,we’regoingtopretenditneverhappened.
“Hyeong,”Youngminsays,hesitating,“thatajeossiisoutsideagain.”
It’slikethesewordsflipaswitchinsideJaewoobecausehiswholedemeanorchanges.
Withjerkymovements,hetakesouthisphone,quicklytappingagainstthescreen,thenholdingittohisear.Catchingmyeye,heexplains,“I’mcallingcampussecurity.Hello?”Someonemusthavepickedupontheotherline.“There’sasuspiciousadult,male,mid-forties,hangingaroundtheartsdepartment.”Heholdshishandtothereceiver.“Whichside?”heasksYoungmin.
“Eastside,”Youngmintellshim,andJaewoorepeatsittotheoperator.
“Thankyou.”Hehangsup.“Don’tworry,Youngmin-ah.They’llgetridofhim.”
Westartwalking,Jaewooatthefront,flankedbyYoungminandme.TensionradiatesfromJaewooinwaves.Somethingabouttheappearanceofthismanhasreallytickedhimoff.
“Whoishe?”IaskYoungmin.
“Apaparazziajeossi,”Youngminexplains.“He’stheonewhosoldthestoryofNathanielandSoritoBulletin.”
Jaewoo’sangersuddenlymakesalotmoresense.Thisisthemanwhohurthisgroupmember,hislabel-mateandfriend.Withhim,it’spersonal.
“Doyougetfollowedbypaparazzialot?”Iask.
Youngminwrinkleshisnose.“Notreally.Thoughsometimestheywaitforusoutsidethecompany…”
“That’sdifferent,”Jaewoosays,andhisusuallyeven-tonedvoicehasanedgetoit.“Atconcerts,atfanevents,eveninplaceswherethereisn’tadesignatedmediazonelikeoutsideJoah’sbuildingorthebroadcastingstations,mediaareexpected,eveninvited.Butatourschool?Outsideourdorm?Atthehomesofourfamilies?That’snotright.
“Whenourfanstakephotosofusit’sbecausetheywanttofeelclosetous,theysupportusandhaveourbestinterestsatheart.Paparazzijustwantmoney;theywanttoexposeourprivatelivesforprofit.”
“Peoplehaveevengottenhurt,”Youngminsays.“Therehavebeencaseswhereidolshavegottenintocarcrashestryingtogetawayfrompaparazzi.”
“Wow,that’sawful.”
Wereachahallwaythatsplitsintwodirections.Jaewoofinallystopsandturnstome.“YoungminandIwillgoouttheeastside.Ifyoufollowthishallit’lltakeyououtthenorthexit.Followthegardenpathtothecafeteria.”
Ifeellikewe’reinawarfilmandhe’sdrawingthefire.It’sasimilarfeelingtohowIfeltthatnightinLA,whenanunmarkedvanhadpulleduptothecurbtotakehimaway.
“Thepaparazziajeossishouldbegonebynow,”Jaewoosays,andIknowhesaysittoreassureme.
Theybothwaitformetoleavefirst.“Goodluckonyourliveshow,”Isay.“I’llbesuretowatch.”
Youngminholdsuphisthumbandpointerfinger,pressingthepadstogetherandcrossingthemslightlyuntiltheyformtheshapeofatinyheart.
“Ifyouseememakingthissigntothecamera,knowthatit’sforyou!”
Laterthatnight,Angela,GiTaek,andIwatchXOXO’sperformanceonTopTenLiveinasmallrestaurantrightoffcampusthatsellsKoreanfoodatcheapprices.Wesplitaplateoftteok-bokkibetweenusaswewaitforourotherdishestoarrive.
GiTaekspearsacylinderofthespicyricecakewithatoothpick.“Don’tletmeeatmorethanthree.I’monadiet.”
“Howcanyoustopatthree?”Angelaexclaims.“Icouldeatawholemountainoftteok-bokki.”She’sforegonethetoothpicksinfavorofchopsticksforeasieraccess.
IrestmychinonmyhandandwatchtheentiretyofXOXO’sperformance,noticingdetailsIhadn’tpickedoutthefirsttimearound.Likehoweventhechoreographytellsastory.Asthecamerapansclosertotheperformers,Youngminflashestheheartsigntothecamera.
“That’snotusuallypartoftheroutine,”Angelasays.“Howcute!”
Ajingleabovethedoorsignalstheentranceofanothercustomer.I’msurprisedtoseethoughthatit’sSoriwhostepsthroughthedoor.Withoutsomuchasaglanceinourdirection,shewalksovertothecounter,placesherorder,andtakesaseatatatablealittlewaydownfromus.
Angelaleansacrossthetableandwhispers,“Shouldweinvitehertojoinus?”
GiTaekshakeshishead.“She’dneversayyes.”
TherestaurantownercallsoutourorderandAngeladashesfromthetable,comingbackwithaplateofkimchifriedrice.Wediginwithourspoons.
“Whatareyourplansfortheweekend?”GiTaekasksus.He’sfarsurpassedthreetteok-bokkibynow.
“I’mgoingtovisitmyhalmeonionSundaymorning,”Isay.
“Wheredoesyourhalmeonilive?”GiTaekasks.
“ShelivesnearGyeongbokgungPalace,butI’mactuallyvisitingheratthehealthclinicwhereshestaysontheweekends.It’salsoaroundthere,thoughafewstopsawayonlinethree.”
“That’snotfarfromIkseon-dong,”GiTaeksays.“Mysisterlivesintheneighborhood.Therearealotofcoolcafésnearby.Weshouldhangout.”
“I’min!”Angelasays.
“I’dlovethat,”Isay.
WemakeplanstomeetonSundayinthelateafternoonafterIvisitmygrandma.
Thebellsabovethedoorchimeagain.ThistimeJinaenters,accompaniedbyafewofherfriends.
Sheglancesoveratourtable,thensayssomethingtotheboybehindher,wholaughs.
“She’sinyourclass,isn’tshe?”GiTaekasks.“KimJina?”
“Sheis.She’salsoinourPEclass,”Isay,noddingatAngela.“Doyouknowher?”
“Iwenttomiddleschoolwithher.Shedoesn’texactlyhaveagreatreputation,liketherewererumorsofschoolbullying.”
AngelaandIexchangealook.WhyamInotsurprised?
Afterorderingatthecounter,hergroupcompletelyignoresourtable;theyhaveamorevulnerabletargetinmind.
TheytakeseatsatthetabledirectlynexttoSori’s,talkingloudlytooneanother.Theirvoicescarrythroughoutthesmallrestaurant:
“She’ssittingalone.”
“Doesn’tshehaveanyfriends?”
“Whataloser.”
Sori,who’dorderedahotnoodledish,bendsslightlyforward,herhairfallingoverherface.
Therestaurantownercallsoutthatthelastfooditemsweorderedareready.GiTaek,Angela,andIallstandatonce.Therearethreeplatesoffoodontraysandweeachtakeone.
Weformaline,withmeinthefront,andheadthroughtherestaurant,bypassingourtable,wherewe’dalreadycleanedupthefoodonourdishes.
WesetourtraysdownatSori’stable.Isitoppositeher,whileGiTaekandAngelasitbesideus.
Andthenweproceedtocompletelyignoreher,continuingourchat.Atonepoint,IthinkSorimightgetupandflee,herspoonhoveringintheair.Butthensheresumeseating.
Westay—eatingandgossipingandjokingandlaughing—untilshe’sfinishedhermeal.Eighteen
IthinkIhaveahandleonmyclassesandschedulebytheendoftheweek.Afterthetenminutesofhomeroom,Ihavemathorcomputerinthemornings,followedbystudyhallwhereItakemyLACHSAcoursesonline,theneitherPEordance—whichI’vedecidedtostickwithfornow,sincebesideshomeroom,it’stheonlyclassIhavewithJaewoo.Thenafterlunchfollowsorchestra,individualpractice,andmorestudyhall.
ThoughI’mwonderingifitwasamistaketostayindanceforthatreason,whenit’snotlikeJaewooandIeverspeaktoeachother,bothofusadheringtothewhole“secretfriends”policy.
Ijustwishitwaseasyformeasitclearlyisforhim.Maybehavingsecretfriendshipsispartofanidol’straining,likethatwholelistAngelawentover:dancing,singing,andlearninghowtoignoreaspecificgirlalldaylongonlytopullherintoabroomclosetandalmostkissher.
ItseemseffortlessforhimtopretendIdon’texistwhilemyeyesarepulledinhisdirectionconstantly.Evenmythoughtswon’tgivemeabreak.Whatdidthatmomentintheclosetmean,ifitmeantanythingatall?I’mjustsoconfused.
It’shonestlyareliefwhentheweekendfinallycomesaround.
IspendFridayemailingbackandforthwithmyworldEnglishteacher,whoassignsmeexcerptsfromtheNortonAnthologyofWorldMasterpieces,whichIpurchaseonlineasane-book.WhenInoticethattherearen’tanyKoreanauthorsorpoetslistedinthesyllabus,IemailtoaskifIcansupplementafewforextracredit,andheemailsbackwithanenthusiastic“goforit.”Ridingthathigh,ItextEunbiaboutmyportfolioformusicschools.
Sundaymorning,Igrabmydad’srattyoldDodgerscapandmycelloalreadypackedinitstravelcase,thenhopontothesubway,transferringoncetotheorangelineandtakingthatallthewaytomygrandma’scliniclocatedinthenorthernpartofSeoul.
Outsidethestation,Ibreatheinthecrispmountainair.Icefromthenightbeforestilllingersonthestreets,andI’mcarefulasImakemywaypastasmallneighborhoodmarketputtingupitsproducestandforthedayandabakerywithfreshlybakedloavesofbreadinthewindow.Backtracking,Ipurchaseone.Thefriendlyshopgirlwrapstheloafinbrownpaper,slippingawildflowerbeneaththetwine.
Mygrandmother’sclinicistuckedrightoffthemainroadinaplacecalledCamelliaHealthVillage,whichiscomprisedofseveralsmallhealth-carefacilitieswithdifferentspecializations.Thevillagesurroundsabeautifulprivateparkfullofgardensandwalkingpaths.BeforeheadingtoHalmeoni’sclinic,Istopandwatchayoungboyandhisgrandfatherflyakiteonthelawn.
Thisplaceissopeaceful.Thepathtotheclinicislinedwithcherrytreesthatevennowhavesmallbudsupontheirbranches.Inlessthanamonth’stimethey’llbeinfullbloom.
Upahead,Inoticeaguyhassteppedoffthepath,standingbeneathoneofthetrees.He’stall,wearingacamojacketanddarkjeans.I’minstantlyremindedofJaewoo,whichseemstobemysubconscious’sevilwayoftoyingwithme.
Isigh,passingbythetree.
“Jenny?”
Ialmostfallover.
Jaewoojogsacrossthegrass.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Helooksgreat.Imean,healwayslooksgreat.ButthisisthefirsttimeI’veseenhimincasualclothingthatisn’tworkoutclothes,andhe’sgivingoffextreme“boyfriend”vibes.WhenIrealizeI’mstaring,Ianswer,“I’mheretovisitmyhalmeoni.She’sintheclinic.Whataboutyou?Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Hissmilefalters.
“Youdon’thavetotellme,”Isayquickly.Idon’twanthimtoshareanythinghe’snotcomfortablewith,especiallyifit’sabouthishealth.
“No,it’sokay.Iwasseeingmytherapist.”
“Oh,”Isay.“Cool.”Iwenttoafewsessionswithatherapistwhenmydadpassedaway.Ithelpedmealot,andmymomtoo,thoughshehasn’tgoneinafewyears.
IknowmentalhealthisstigmatizedinKoreainawaythatit’snotintheUS.ItmakessensethatJaewoohasatherapist,withallthepressuresandstressthatcomeswithbeinganidol.
“Yeah,”hewatchesmeoddly.Hisgazetravelstomyshoulder.“Isthatyourcello?”Henodstoindicatemytravelcase.“Itlooksheavy.”
Iadjustthestrap.“I’musedtoit.I’vebeenplayingsinceIwaseight.”
“I’dsayIwassingingsinceIwasfour.”Hegrins.“Butprobablysohaveyou.”
“Notasbeautifully,believeme.”
Heraisesasingleeyebrow.
Iwavemyhandintheair,asifbrushingoffwhatIsaid.“Youknowyouhaveabeautifulvoice,comeon.”
Heshakeshishead,asmallsmileonhislips.“Sodidyoubringyourcellotoplayforyourhalmeoni?”
“Yeah,she’sactuallyneverheardmeplay.Isthatweird?”
“Myfatherhasneverheardmesing.”
Hesaysitwithoutanyinflectioninhisvoice,asifhewerediscussingtheweather.IrecallfromthatnightinLAthathewasraisedbyasinglemother.
“Ishecompletelyoutofthepicture?”Iasksoftly.
“SinceIwasfour.NowthatIthinkaboutit,foraslongasIcouldsing.”Hegrins,clearlyteasingme,andhimself,andyetthesubjectissad,nomatterwhat.ButIalsoknowwhysomeonemightusehumortomaskpain.I’vedoneitmyself.
“Areyouheadingout?”Iask,foralighterchangeofsubject.
“Iwas…”hesays.“Ihavenootherplansfortheday…”Hebiteshislip,waitingexpectantly.
“Doyou…”—heconcentratesonmymouth,asifwillingthewordsfrommylips—“wanttovisitmyhalmeoniwithme?”
Hegrinswidely.“Areyouasking?”
Irollmyeyes.“Comeon.”
Westarttowalkside-by-sidedownthetree-linedpath.
Idon’tknowwhatcompelledmetoinvitehim,especiallywithhowuncertainIamofwhatweevenaretoeachother.Secretfriends.Secretfriendswhoalmostkiss.AndifI’mokaywiththat.ThenIrealizeitdoesn’tmatter.I’mjusthappyhe’sherewithme,andit’sabeautifulday.
“Doyouusuallycomeherealone?”Iask.“WhenImetNathanielandYoungminintheuniformshop,therewasthisguywiththem…”
“YoumustmeanNamJiSeok,ourmanager.Heactuallydoescomewithme,whenIhavemyweeklysessions,buttodaybothSun-hyeongandYoungminhadactivitiesontheirschedulesthatrequiredmoreofhisattention.Youngmin’sshootingacommercialandSunisfilmingacooking-themedrealityTVshow.”
Itdoesn’tescapemynoticethathehasn’tmentionedNathaniel.Ihopethatthereasonhedoesn’thaveasoloactivityisbecause,likeJaewoo,hehadapriorcommitment,andnotthathewasn’tasked.
Thepathopensbackuptoasmalllawn.Inthedistance,Icatchsightofthegrandfatherandboywiththekite.
Jaewooofferstocarryafewofmythings.Iwon’tgivehimmycello,butheinsistsonholdingtheloafofbread.
Whenwereachthedoortotheclinic,Jaewooholdsitopenforme.Iheadovertothedesktocheckmyselfin,writingdownJennyGo+1inthevisitorlogbook.
WhenIturnaround,Jaewoo’sgone.I’mstilllookingaroundthewaitingareawhenheemergesfromasmallgiftshopbearingabouquetofpinkcarnations.
Myheartdoesalittleflipflopinmychest.
He’salsowearingafacemask,onethatcovershisnoseandmouth,presumablytohidehisidentity.Thisisahealthclinic,whereextraprecautionsareappreciated.
Thereceptionistbuzzesusintotheward.WeapproachthenursingstationandIintroducemyself,whileJaewoohandsovertheloaffromthebakery.Thenursesbehindthedesk“eomeona”and“ah”overthebakedgoods,butmostlyoverJaewoo,whoevenwithhisfacecovered,charmsthemeasily.Thentheheadnurseleadsustomygrandmother’sroom,whichsheshareswiththreeotherpatients.
She’sinthebedclosesttothedoor,andwhenshecatchessightofme,herwholefacelightsup.“Jenny-yah!”
Iwalkoverandtakeherhands.Earlier,Momcalledandsaidshewasn’tcominguntillatertoday,butthatIshouldgoaheadandvisitbymyself.I’veneverbeenalonewithmygrandmother,andatfirstIthinkit’llbeawkward,butherwarmsmilemeltsmyworriesaway.
Sheleansinandsays,notquietly,“Isheyourboyfriend?”
“Halmeoni!”Igasp.“I’veonlybeeninKoreaforaweek.”
Shegiggles.“WhenIwasyourage,boyswereconstantlybringingmepresentsandtellingmetheylikedme.”
Jaewoolaughs.“It’sstillhappening,Halmeoni.”Heleansovertohandhertheflowers.
“Eomeona!”sheshouts.Theotherelderlypatients,who’veobviouslybeeneavesdropping,allchuckleappreciatively.
JaewooandIpullupchairsbesideHalmeoni’sbed,andsheasksushowthefirstweekofschoolhasgone—great!—andthenasksmeifI’vemadeanyfriends.ShepatsJaewoo’shand.“BesidesJaewoo-ssi,thatis.”
ItellheraboutGiTaekandAngela.IalmosttellheraboutNathaniel,butitseemsalittleawkwardwithJaewoosittingrightbesideme.IhavebeenputtingdistancebetweenNathanielandme,butit’shardwithouttellinghimwhy,thoughIthinkhe’sstartingtonotice.
“Whataboutyourroommate?”sheasks.
“She’s…”Ihesitate.“She’sconsiderateofmyspace.”Ifeellikethat’sadiplomaticwayofsayingwe’renotfriends.
Halmeoniclickshertongue.“Youshouldtrytobefriendswithher,ifshe’llletyou.Agoodroommatecanbeafriendforlife.”
Alltheothergrandmothersintheirbedsconcurloudly.
Afterchatting,HalmeoniasksJaewoototurnontheTV.Heobeys,pickinguptheremoteandswitchingtothechannelsherequests.It’satapingofCooky’sCookingShowwithafewspecialguests,includingOhSunfromXOXO.Theshowplaysaclipof“Don’tLookBack”duringSun’sintroduction,butHalmeoniandherfriendsdon’tseemtomakeanyconnectionsbetweentheboyintheroomandtheoneonthescreen,nordotheycare.They’remoreinterestedintheveteranactresswho’salsoaguest.
Aftertheshow,HalmeonigivesJaewooandmeatouroftheclinic’sfacilities,includingthecafeteriaandexerciseroom.Aswewalk,sheholdsontomyarmforsupport,hersmallbird-likebonessoweakandfragile.Ifeelsucharushofloveforher.Whichisodd,sinceIdon’tthinkwe’vespentmorethantwenty-fourhourstogetherinmywholelife.
Thefinalstoponthetouristherecreationroom.IrealizeHalmeonimusthavenotifiedthestaffofmyintentiontoplayforherbecausechairshavebeensetupfacingasmallplatformagainstthefarwall.Mostoftheseatsareoccupiedbypatients,includingHalmeoni’sthreeroommates.
“I’llgetyourcellofromtheroom,”Jaewoosays.Bythetimehereturns,alltheseatshavebeenfilled.Evensomeofthestaffhavedecidedtotakeabreakfromworktolisten.
Ifeelnervous,whichisoutofcharacterforme.I’veplayedformuchbiggercrowdsthanthis;I’veplayedformuchmoreprestigiouscrowdsthanthis,forpeoplewhosejudgmentwoulddetermineifIwouldreceivearibbonoramedal.
ButI’verarelyplayedforanyonewhoIcareabout,whoseopinionmatterstome.“You’lldogreat,”Jaewoosaysconfidentlyashehandsmycelloover,andmyheartwarmsinresponse.Inthefrontrow,HalmeoniisbraggingloudlythatI’mhersonnyeo,hergranddaughter,andIfeelherprideinmewashawaythelastofmynerves.
Iglancetowardthedoor,imaginingmymomwalkingthrough.I’dbroughtmycellotodaynotonlytoplayforHalmeoni,butbecauseIthoughtshemightbeheretoo.I’malittledisappointedthatsheisn’t,butthat’sasmallthingcomparedtotheexcitementIfeeltoperformforHalmeoniandallherfriends.AndJaewoo.
Iremovemycellofromitstravelingcase.Slowly,Igothroughmynormalroutine,placingmycellobetweenmyknees,stretchingmyhandsandtuningthestrings.IbowtheGnote,lettingoutitsfullsound,andafewofthehalmeoniandharabeojiclapexcitedly.
There’snomusicstand,whichmeansI’llhavetoplaysomethingbymemory.Itakeoutmyfolderandflipthroughthesheetmusic,lookingforinspiration.I’dplaythepieceI’mworkingonformysoloperformanceclass,exceptI’veonlymemorizedthefirstmovement.Afewoftheotherpiecescouldwork,butsomethingaboutthemdoesn’tfeelright
Idon’twanttoplayanythingtoolong.Afewpatientsinthebackrowarealreadyfallingasleep.AndIalsodon’twanttoplayanythingthatmightborethem.Classicalmusicisn’tforeveryone.
Myfingersbrushagainstthelastpieceinmyfolder.SlowlyIpullitout.It’sthesheetmusicforSaint-Sa?ns’s“LeCygne,”or“TheSwan,”abeautifulpiececomposedasacellosolo.Itwasoriginallyincludedinmyportfolioformusicschools,butI’dtakenitoutaftertheresultsfromthecompetitioninNovember.
WhileJennyisatalentedcellist,proficientinallthetechnicalelementsofmusic,shelacksthesparkthatwouldtakeherfromperfectlytrainedtoextraordinary.
ItseemssolongagothatI’dcomplainedtoUncleJayaboutmyresultsandhe’dtoldmeto“livealittle,”thenightI’dmetJaewoo.Ilookupacrosstheseaofexpectantfacestowherehestandsatthebackoftheroom.IwonderifpartofthereasonI’msodrawntohimisbecauseofthewayhemademefeelthatnight,likeIwaschasingthesparkthatlitbetweenus.
Itseemsalmostlikeachallenge,tothejudges,andtomyself,toplaythepiecenow,fornootherreasonthanbecauseIwantto.
Ipickupthesheetmusicandreadoveritquickly.Ihaven’tplayed“LeCygne”sincethatday,butIhaveconfidencethatI’llrememberthenotes.It’sashortpiece,andI’dplayeditoverandoveragainformonthsleadinguptothecompetition.Justincase,Ilaythepagesoutonthegroundatmyfeet.
“Doyouwantmetoholditupforyou?”aharabeojiasks,sittinginthefrontrow.
“No,butthankyou,”Isaypolitely.
Itakeadeepbreath,centeringmyself.Itrynottoconcentrateonthesoundsintheaudience,thecreakofchairsaspeoplegetcomfortable,acough.
Ilooktomygrandmother,whosehandsareclaspedtogether,andthenatJaewoo,whogivesmeasinglenod.
Iclosemyeyesandbeginthesong.
Themusicisbeautiful,elegant,slow,andpowerful.AsIplay,mybreathingseemstofollowthemelody,risingandfalling,andrisingagain.It’sasifIreplaytheemotionsoftheweekintheebbandflowofthesong,theexcitementofbeinginSeoul,ofmakingnewfriends,ofgettingtoknowmygrandmother,thedistancebetweenmymotherandme,thewhat-ifsaboutmyfutureandmusicschool,everythingthatJaewoomakesmefeel:anticipation,frustration,joy,andsomethingelse,somethingmore.
I’veneverfeltmoreconnectedtoasongthaninthismoment.
WhenIfinish,holdingoutthefinalnote,thewholeroomissilent.Thenitburstsintoenthusiasticapplause.Afewofthepatientsgiveastandingovation.Ifeeltriumphant.Thatwasundoubtedlymybestperformanceof“LeCygne,”perhapsmybestperformanceever.
Mygrandmotherisclappinginthefrontrow,tearsinhereyes.Ibow,smilingwidelyatthecrowd,andthenmyeyeseagerlysearchforJaewooatthebackoftheroom.
Whenhe’snotinthespotwhereIlastsawhim,againstthewall,Istartlookingforhimintheaudience.Butnoneofthebeaming,happyfacesbelongtohim.
Thejoyinsidemebeginstodissipate,untilIfeelanawfultighteninginmychest.
He’sgone.Nineteen
IshouldhavedroppeddancewhenIhadthechance.Atthisrate,I’mgoingtofailaclass,anditdoesn’tmatterhowamazingmyportfolioisorhowwellmyauditiongoes,I’llnevergetintoatopmusicschoolwithafailinggrade.
“Youweren’tkiddingaboutyourlackofdanceskills,”NathanielsaysafterthethirdtimeI’vesteppedonhisfootinahalfhour.Atthestartofclass,Ms.Dantoldustoallgrabpartners,andbeforeIcouldasksomeoneelse,Nathanielhadpracticallytackledme.“Honestly,Ithinkyou’redoingtheworldaservicebyplayingcello,”Nathanielmuses.“Atleastyouhavetositforit.”
Outside,thunderrumblesinthedistance,stormcloudsrollinginfromthewest.We’redueforadownpour.Hopefullytonight,whenI’mbackinthedorms.
“Jaewoo-seonbae!”
Asifpulledbyastring,myheadsnapsinthedirectionofthevoice.Ontheothersideofthestudio,aclassmateapproachesJaewoo.
We’vebeenavoidingeachotherallweek,eversinceheleftmygrandmother’sclinicwithoutsayinggoodbye.There’snoexcuseforwhyheleft,andI’mnotabouttolistentoany,evenifheshouldpullmeintoaceilingvent.
“You’llgetiteventually,I’msure,”Nathanielsays.“Eitherthatorfail.”
IglareatNathaniel.Alldayhe’sbeensnappy.What’sputhiminamood?
“Thanksfortheboostofconfidence.”
Wespendtherestoftheclassworkingonthegroupproject,devotingthelastfifteenminutestoasectionofthechoreographywhereNathanielhastospinmearoundinacircle.
“BaeJaewoo!”
Itripovermyfeet.
Nathanielfollowsthedirectionofmygaze.“Whatdoyoukeeplookingat?”
“Nothing!”Iattemptachangeofsubject,“You’refromNewYork.”
“Thisistrue.”
“What’sitlike?”
Mygrandparentsonmydad’ssideonlyrecentlymovedtoNewJerseytoliveclosertomyaunt,andIhaven’tyethadthechancetovisitthem.
IneverreallythoughtaboutNewYorkotherthanitbeingthecitywheretheManhattanSchoolofMusicwaslocated.ButnowthatI’minSeoul,wherethecityissomuchapartofeverydaylifeandculture,I’mcuriouswhatit’slike.
“ThinkofSeoul,”Nathanielsays.“Pictureitinyourhead.”Iclosemyeyes,seeingthecityinmymind,theconstantmovement,thecars,taxis,buses,andmotorbikesinthestreets,thehugebuildingswithbrightsignsinHangeulandEnglish,thehundredsofrestaurants,cafés,shops,markets,themuseumsandpalaces.It’slikeasymphonyinmyhead.
“Areyoupicturingit?”
“Yes,”Ibreathe.
“Nowpictureathicklayerofdirtoveritall.That’sNewYork.”
Iscowl.
Afterclass,Iquicklypackmybagandleave,wantingtoavoidbothboysinXOXO.Idon’tmakeitfar.
“Jenny!”Nathanielsays,catchingmeinthestairwell.Afewstudentscastuscuriousglances.
“What’supwithyou?”heasks,pressinghisshouldertothewall.“You’vebeenignoringmeallweek.”
Thisconversationwasboundtohappen,andIoweNathanielanexplanation.
“Yeah,Iknow.”Isigh.“I’msorry.It’sjust,you’re…”Igestureathim,amovementmeanttoencompasstheentiretyofhisbeing.“Anidol.”
“Yeah,Iknow,”herepeats.“We’veestablishedthat.”
Ilowermyvoiceasagroupofunderclassmenpassusonthestairs,theireyesflittingfromNathanieltome.“Ijustdon’twantanyrumorstostart.”
“Whocareswhatpeoplethink?”hesays.
“Icare,”Ihiss.“Idon’twantyoutogetintotroublebecauseofme.”
Nathanieljuststaresatme,asifI’vegrownasecondhead.“What?”Isay,nowfeelingself-conscious.
“Isthisreallycomingfromyou?”Hiseyesnarrow.“Jaewoosaidsomething,didn’the?”WhenIdon’timmediatelyanswer,hecurses.“Iknewit!God,hethinksheknowswhat’sbestforeveryone.”
“He’sjustconcernedforyou,”Isay,thoughIdon’tknowwhyI’mdefendinghim.I’mjustasannoyedwithJaewooashim,ifnotmoreso.
AnoddlookappearsinNathaniel’seyes.“Jaewooshouldworryabouthimself.”
Likethatdoesn’tsoundforeboding.
“Youhungry?”Nathanielasksabruptly,droppingthesubject.“I’mstarved.Let’sgogetlunch.”
Thestormthathadbeenbrewingallmorninghasfinallyarrived,andNathanielandIhavetosprintacrossthequadtoavoidgettingsoaked.Westillenduphavingtowringwateroutofouruniformsbeforeenteringthecafeteria.GiTaekandAngelaarespeakingwiththeirprogramdirectorstoday—they’dtoldmeaboutitwhenI’dmetthemaftervisitingHalmeonionSunday—soit’sjustNathanielandme.Themaindishontoday’slunchsetisspicystir-friedpork,oneofmyfavorites.Afterclaimingourtrays,weheadforourusualtable,onlytofinditoccupied.
“Let’sgotothestudentcenter,”Isay.Becauseofthestorm,thecafeteriaismorecrowdedthanusual.
“No,wait.Iseetwoemptyseats.”Nathanielwadesintotheseaofstudents.Ifollowataclosedistance,tryingtokeepmytrayfromknockingintoanyone
Reachinghisdestination,Nathanielplopshistrayontothetablenextto.
Jaewoo.
Sori’sseatedacrossfromhim.
“Sitdown,Jenny,”Nathanielsays,eitherobliviousoftheawkwardnessorpointedlyignoringit,maybeevenenjoyingit.Mostlikelythelatter.“Ithinkit’sabouttimeweallsitdownforachat.”
Sorimakestoleave.“Ishouldgo.”
“Don’trunformysake,”Nathanielsays.
Sheremainsseated.
IfeelasifI’vesteppedintoascenefromaK-drama.ThemaincharactersareJaewoo,thestalwartclasspresident,andSori,thechaeboldaughterofahugeentertainmentcompany,whichIguesswouldmakeNathanielandIthedisreputableAmericansecondarycharacters,theretodisturbtheotherwiseidylliclifeoftheleads.
“Jenny?”Allthreeofthemarelookingatmeexpectantly.
“Oh,sorry.”ItaketheseatnexttoSori.
“Youtwoareroommates,aren’tyou?”Nathanielasks.
IglanceatSoributshedoesn’tlooklikeshe’sgoingtoanswer,shufflingthefoodaroundonherplatewithherchopsticks.“Yes,”Isay.
“Well,that’ssurprising.”
Whenhedoesn’telaborate,Isigh.“Whyisthatsurprising?”
“Oh,thatSori’sparentsallowedhertohavearoommate,seeingashowtheyhavecompletecontroloverherlife.”
Damn,Nathaniel!Igivehimawide-eyedlook.Stop!
Hegivesmeashrug.What?
Outofthecornerofmyeye,IseeJaewoowatchingus.
“Ijustmean,”Nathanielacquiesces,flickinghisgazeatSori,“they’resoprotectiveofyou.Astheyshouldbe.You’retheirpreciousdaughter.”
“Whataboutyoutwo?”Isay,tryingtotaketheheatoffSori.“Youlivetogether,right?”
NathanielswitcheshisgazefromSoritome.“Yeah,weliveinadormdownthestreetfromJoah.Butwe’removingsoontoabiggerplace.Whenwe’reallsettled,youshouldcomeover.”
Iwavehimoff.“I’msureyou’dhavetoaskyourotherroommates.”
“Oh,Youngminwon’tmind.AndSunishardlythere.Idon’tknowaboutJaewoothough.”Heturnstohisbandmate,allinnocence.“Howaboutit,Jaewoo?YouwantJennytocomeover?”
Somethingisdefinitelygoingonhere.NathanielmustknowsomethingaboutJaewooandme.Buthow?IdoubtJaewootoldhim,notwhenhekeptitfromYoungmin.
“We’renotallowedtohavegirlsatthedorm,”Jaewoosayscoolly,thoughhiseyesnarrowamargin.
“BaeJaewoo…”Nathaniellaughswithouthumor.“Alwaysarule-follower.”
Jaewoogritshisteeth.“Ifollowrulessothatothersdon’tgethurt.”
“Evenwhenit’stherulesthathurtthepeopleyoucareaboutthemost?”
Besideme,Sori’sstoppedevenpretendingtoeat;herhandthatholdsherchopsticksistrembling.
“Sori,”Isay,“whatyousaidbeforewasagoodidea.Weshouldgo.”
Sheignoresme.“Jaewoo’sright,Nathaniel.Rulesaremadeforareason,notjusttoprotectourcompany,butalsotoprotectourdreams,whatwe’vebeenstrivingforourwholelives!Youwouldn’tunderstand.You’renotlikeus.”
“Why?BecauseIenteredthegamelate?BecauseIwasn’tbrainwashedatayoungagetobelievethatIhadtogiveupeverythingformyfamily?OrisitbecauseI’mKoreanAmerican?Ijustdon’tgetitbecauseI’mdifferent,becauseIhave—Idon’tknow—amindofmyown?”
Thecafeteriahasgonesilent.Everyoneiswatching,listening.
“Sori…”Itugathersleeve.“Seriously,weshouldgo.”
“Andyou,”sheturnstome,andthevenominhervoiceactuallymakesmewince.“Youthinkyou’resogreat,waltzinginhere,makingfriends,showingthemofftome.Whenyouweretheonewhointrudedintomylife,nosingintomybusiness,readingmymail.Areyouevenhereformusic?Youcan’tdance.Idoubtyoucansing.Youdon’tbelonghere.You’renothing.”
Myheartfeelsasifit’sdroppedintomystomach.Thisiswhatshe’sthoughtofmethiswholetime.Icanhardlyhearwhat’sgoingonaroundme,aringinginmyears.
“You’rewrong,Sori-yah.”
Everythingwithinmegoesstill.Sori,wide-eyed,liftsherhead.Iturnslowly.
“Youshouldn’tsaythosethingsaboutJenny,”Jaewoocontinues.“She’sanincrediblemusician.She’salsoadevoteddaughterandgranddaughter.Andaloyalfriend.Youwouldknowallofthisabouther,ifyougaveherachance.”
Ifeelawaveofemotionssweepthroughme:shock,adrenaline,gratitude,andconfusion.Whyishesayingthisnow,afterabandoningmetheotherday,afterignoringmeallweek?
HowamIevensupposedtoreacttothis…defenseofmycharacter?We’renotevensupposedtoknoweachother.
Soristandsupabruptly,thechairclangingtothefloorbehindher.Tearsarestreamingdownherface.Withoutanotherword,sherushesfromthecafeteria.
Ihurrytofollow,leavingbehindastunnedcrowd.Twenty
“Sori!”
Shehasn’tgonefarbecauseofthestorm.Standingoutsidethecafeteriadoorsbeneaththeoverhangshelooksoutattherainpouringdowninlongsheetsthatcascadediagonallyacrossthequad.Ontheoppositesideisthedorm,thelightstwinklingblurrilythroughtherain.Sheseemslikeshe’sthinkingofmakingarunforit.
“Sori!”Icallout,pressingopenthedoor.“Ididn’tknowyoufeltthatway.I’msorryaboutthepostcard,youdon’tknowhowsorry.”
Wrappingherarmsaroundherbody,sheturnstofaceme.Themakeuparoundhereyesissmudged,possiblyinanattempttowipeawayhertears.
“Whyareyouapologizingtome?Ijustsaidterriblethingsaboutyou.”
It’savalidquestion.It’snotlikeI’dapologizetoJina.ButIneverthoughtSoriwascruel.Sure,she’sbeenhaughtyandcold,butanythingshe’seversaidaboutme,she’ssaidstraighttomyface,whichIcanappreciate.Plus,Ilivewithher;Iknowthatwhenshe’snotstudyingorworkingout,she’swatchingK-dramasorreadingsmuttyromancemanhwa.Besideshavingaclosettodiefor,IknowthatherfavoritegenreofmusicisR&BandshehasaplantbyherbedsidethatshewaterseverynightfromherWeBareBearswatercup.It’sendearing,hownerdysheis.
Whydidshesignupforaroomwithadoubleifshecouldhavehadasingle?I’daskedmyselfthatquestionbefore,andI’mmoreconfidentthaneveroftheanswer:shehopedforafriend.
“I’mapologizingtoyoubecauseIdidreadyourpostcardthatmorningandthatwasshittyofme.”Evenifitwasanaccident,Ishouldhaveputitbackwithoutlookingatit.“ButIwon’tapologizefortheotherstuffyouaccusedmeof.Irespectthatyoufeelthatway,butIcan’tingoodfaithapologizeforit…”Ipause.“Exceptmaybethedancing.Nobodyshouldhavetosufferthroughthat.”
Sheholdsmygazeforafewsecondslonger,thenlooksaway,shakingherhead.“You’reweird.”
Iscoff.“Please.I’mnottheonewhorollsherfacewitharockeverynighttogetaV-linejaw.”
Shegasps,placingahanddramaticallytoherchin.“Waytojudgeme.”Butthere’sasmallsmileonherface,andIknowwe’vecrossedabridge.
“Sori!”ThedoortothelunchroombangsopenandNathanielrushesout.
ThesmileonSori’sfacedropsandIshootNathanielalookofresentment.
Hedoesn’tnotice,hisentirebeingfocusedonSori.“Thatwenttoofar.Forgiveme.”
Shetakesastepbackward,therainpouringontohershoulder.
“Wait,”hesays.“You’llcatchacold.”Hetakesastepback.“IpromiseIwon’tchaseyou.Justdon’t…run.”
“Stopit!”Sheplacesherhandstoherears,asiftoblockhimout.“Juststopit!”
“Sori-yah.”
“Stoptakingcareofme!Stopmakingmemissyou.Ithurts.Ithurtssomuch,Nathaniel.”
“Itwasn’tmydecisiontobreakup,”hesaysquietly.“Youknowthat.”
“I—Ican’tdothis.”
Sheturns,disappearingintotherain.
Nathanielkicksthedoor.“Dammit.”
Aspromised,hedoesn’tchaseher.
Iwonderwhatitsaysaboutmethatbetweenthetwoofthem,I’mmoreupsetwithNathanielthanSorieventhoughNathanielandIhavebeenfriendsforlonger.
“Iknowyou’rehavingamoment,”Itellhim,“butyoutotallyinterruptedmymomentwithSori.”
Hesweepsahandthroughhishair.“IfeellikeIhavewhiplash.Thatwasroughinthere.”
“Um,”Isay.“Nothankstoyou.Whywereyouactinglikethat,anyway?Like,besidesneggingSori,whatwasupwithyouandJaewoo?Aren’tyoutwofriends?”
Nathanielgrimaces.“Promisenottogetangry.”
WhichisasuresignthatIwillgetangry.“No.”
Hesighs.“IwasinthevaninLA.”
Ifrown,unsurewhathe’stalkingabout.“Like…backinNovember?”
Henodsslowly.
“So…what,”Iask,“you…sawmethatnight?”Ifhesawme,thenhe’sknownwhoIwasthisentiretime.Whichmeans…“Didyourecognizemeintheuniformstore?”
“Idid.”
Someofhisoddbehaviorfallsintoplace:howhewascuriousaboutwhetherI’vealwayslivedinLA,ifI’dseentheentiretyofthemusicvideofor“Don’tLookBack,”becauseifI’dseenitfromthebeginning,thenIshouldhaverecognizedJaewoo.
“WasYoungmininthevan?”Iask.
Heshakeshishead.“No,Iwasaloneintheback.Ourmanagerwasdriving.Hedidn’tseeyou.Ionlygotaglimpseofyourprofile,andeventhen,Iwouldn’thaverecognizedyouifitwasn’tforthepicture.”
ThepictureofJaewooandme.Theonewetookinthephotobooth.
“Heshowedittoyou?”Iask,incredulous.
“Isawitoverhisshoulderattheairport.”
Itakeslow,deepbreaths.Thisisalottotakein.
“Why?”
IfeellikethatsinglewordencapsulatesallthequestionsIhave.Whydidn’tyousayanything?Whydidyoupretendlikeyoudidn’tknowwhoIwas?Wasanyofourfriendshipevenreal?
Nathanielsighs.“Inordertoanswerthat,Ihavetostartfromthebeginning.I’veknownJaewoosinceIjoinedthecompanyalmostfouryearsago.Inallthattime,he’sneverbrokenarule.Healwaysshowsupontime.Hedoeseverythingthecompanyasksofhim.Idon’tknowifyouknowthis,buthebecameanidolbecauseofhisfamily,inordertosupportthemfinancially.Everythinghedoesisforthem.Andforus.WhenXOXObecameagroup,webecameapartofhisfamily.”
Nathaniel’sstorymirrorswhatJaewoosaidthenightwemetaboutbeingoverwhelmedbyafeelingofresponsibility.
“ThatdayinLA,”Nathanielsays,“hebrokehisarmatthemusicvideoshoot.Andthenhejust…disappeared.Wedrovearoundthecityforhours.Weweresoworried.Ithoughtmaybehereachedhislimit….Butthen,aroundmidnight,hisphonecamebackon.WewerealreadyinK-town,soitwasonlyamatterofminutesbeforewetrackedhimtothatstreet.”
“Iremember,”Isay.“Youshowedupsoquickly.”
Henods.“Iwascuriousaboutwhoyouwere.Attheairport,Iaskedhimaboutyou,butherefusedtosayanything.Andhonestly”—Nathanielshakeshishead—“Iwashurt.Ithoughthetrustedme.ThenallthatstuffhappenedwithSoriandIforgotaboutit.Iwasinabadplace.Hewasthereformethroughitall;theyallwere.”
I’mgladthateventhoughNathanielandJaewoofacedifficultiesasidols,theyhaveeachother,andtherestofthemembersofXOXO
“So,yeah,IdidapproachyouintheuniformstorebecauseofJaewoobutIstuckaroundbecauseofyou.AndIamsorry.Fornottellingyousooner.”
“It’sfine—”
“ItjustfrustratesmetonoendthatJaewoohassomethingthathewantsandhewon’tdoanythingaboutit.”
MyhearthitchesattheimplicationthatNathanielthinksJaewoowantsme.“Isthatwhyyouwentoffonhimjustnow?”Iask.
“ThatandbecauseIwaspissedoffthathetoldyoutostayawayfromme.LikeIgetthathehasmoreatstake…butdon’ttakeitoutonme,youknow?”
Hehasmoreatstake.Notjustwithhisimageandthegroup’ssuccess,buthisfamily’swell-beingaswell.Itmustbeoverwhelming,thatkindofresponsibility—enoughthathe’dtriedtorunawayfromitbackinLA.
I’dalwaysknownourlivesweredifferent,butithadn’treallyhitmeuntilnowtowhatextent.
Therain,whichhadbeenpouringnotafewminutesago,isnowashimmerintheair.
“Ishouldgobackinthere,”Nathanielsayswithasigh.“HelpJaewoocleanupthemessImade.”
Ifollowthedirectionofhisgaze.“Whatdoyouthinkhe’ssaying?”
“I’mnotsure,buthe’llthinkupsomething.He’sgoodatgettingpeopletoseethingshisway.”
Iwonderifthisstatementappliestome.Maybeitdoes,becauseIagreedtokeepourfriendshipasecret.Butalsomaybeitdoesn’t,becauseIdon’tthinkIcandoitmuchlonger.
Wepartways:himtohelpJaewoo,metofindSori.Halfwayacrossthequad,Iclosemyeyesandliftmyfacetotherain.Twenty-One
IfindSorilaidoutonherbedinourdormroom,uniformstillon.Herhairiscoveringherface,whichI’mstartingtosuspectisheranxietycopingmechanism.Exceptwiththerain,herhair’salittlewetandshelookslikeanAsianwaterghost.I’mproudofmyselffornotpointingthisouttoher.
“Doyou…wanttotalkaboutwhatjusthappened?”Iask,slippingoffmyshoes.
“Notreally,”shemumbles.
Iwonderifwe’regoingtogobacktothewaywewerebefore.Strangerslivingtogether.
Thensheabruptlysitsup.Shewhipsherhairback,andit’slikeshe’sinstantlytransformedfromaghosttoamermaid,hersmearedmascaraonlyenhancingthebeautifulshapeofhereyes.“I’msorry,”shesays.
“For…?”
“Youapologized,butIneverdid.I’msorryforwhatIsaidaboutyou,especiallyforwhatIsaidaboutyourmusicalability.Asamusicianmyself,thatwasuncalledfor.”Reachingout,shegrabsherWeBareBearscupfromhernightstandandtakesasip.
“Isthatcupforkids?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Shestillhasthecuptohermouthasshespeaks.
“Like,wasitmadeforlittlekidstouse?”
“No.It’sforallages.”
“Oh,sorry.Igotdistracted.Imean,it’sfine.”
“No,it’snotfine.We’reroommatesandIhavenoidea,like,whatyoudoeven.”
“Icouldshowyou,”Isay.
Thedormsdiscourageplayinginstrumentsinourroomssincethewallsaren’tsoundproof,soIgrabmyphone.
Soripatsherbed,indicatingformetositnexttoher.Iscurryoverandplopdown.
“OhmyGod,isthisEgyptiancotton?”
“Focus,Jenny.”
Iopenupthelastvideosavedonmyphone,onemygrandmothersentme.Apparentlyoneofthenursesintheclinicrecordedmyperformanceof“LeCygne”
IholdmybreathasSoriwatches,herexpressiongivingnothingofherthoughtsaway.Ididn’tthinkIcouldbesonervouswatchingherwatchavideoofme.
Whenitends,shehandsmebackmyphone.“Jaewoowasright.You’reincredible.”
I’mblushing.
“I’veheardthatpiecebefore,”shesays.“There’safamousballetchoreographedtothemusic.”
“Youknowballet?”
“Istudyitalongwithotherdanceforms,likecontemporaryandhip-hop.”
“Soyouwanttobeadancer?”
Sheslidesmealook,likeI’vesaidsomethingfoolish.“Iwanttobeanidol.Forthat,Ineedtoknowhowtodance,sing,andhaveapersonality.”
“Youdefinitelyhavetwooutofthree.”Shenarrowshereyes,andIsay,“Kidding,kidding.”
“IsthiswhatI’vebeenmissingoutonallthistime?”Butshesaysitwithacurvetoherlips,sothatIknowshe’sokaywithmyteasing.“Butlet’stalkaboutyourdancing.Idon’tthinkyou’regoingtopasstheclass,attherateyou’regoing.”
“Iknow,”Igroan.“I’macellist.We’reasedentarybreed.”
“Youjustneedalittlepractice.”Shebitesherlip,watchingme.Thensays,“Latertonight,doyouwanttogetoutofhere?”
Ifrown.“Won’tthefacilitiesbeclosed?”
“You’retalkingtothedaughteroftheCEOofJoahEntertainment.Mymotherownsthirtypercentofthesharesforthisschool.”
“Whatareyousaying?I’mjustapeon.Youneedtospeakmylanguage.”
“Ihaveakey.”
It’slessthatshehasakeyandmorethatsheknowsthecodetotheelectroniclockonthedoor.Enteringthedancestudio,wedropourbagstothefloor.Beforeleavingthedormsaroundten,wechangedintoworkoutclothesandpackedtwototebagsfullofsnacksbecause,asSoriominouslypredicts,“we’regoingtoneedfuel.”
Sheswitchesononlyoneofthelights.Luckilythisstudiofacesthebackoftheschool,notthequad,makingitlesslikelyasecurityguardmightnoticeourpresence.
“Isthiswhereyougointhemornings?”Iask,takingaseatonthefloorandspreadingmylegsouttostretch.
“Yeah,Ipracticehereforanhour,thengotothegymbeforewashingupbeforeclass.”
Thatallsoundsawfultome,butimpressive.
Afterstretching,shebringsherphoneovertothewall,hookingituptothesoundsystem.“Let’sgothroughthewholechoreography.”
Sori’sclearlyaskilleddancerbecauseIonlyhavetodothewholethingonceforhertofigureoutthesteps.Shethenproceedstodemonstratehowit’ssupposedtobedone,andit’sawondertowatchher,especiallyduringthemorepowerfulparts,likewhenshe’skrumping.
“Concentrate!”sheyells,catchingmegapingatherinthemirror.
Afteranhour,I’msweatingfromallmyporesandreadytopulleverysinglestrandofhairoffmyhead.“Isuckatthis.”
“Stopbeingsohardonyourself,”shesays,raisingherwaterbottletohermouth.“Yourbodyhastomemorizethestepsbeforeitwillactuallylookgoodtoothers.You’retryingtoohardtolearnitallatonce.Isolatethemovements.Don’ttellmeyouwereamasteratcellowhenyoufirststarted.”
“Iwasn’tawful,”Imumbletomyself.
“Nooneisjudgingyouhere,”shesays,ignoringme.“JustrememberthatIheardyouplaythecello.Iacknowledgeyou’reamazingatit.Butthisismyspecialty,andI’mtryingtohelpyou.”
Istareather.Likereallylookather.“You’regoodatthis.”
Nowit’sherturntoblush.“Ilike…helpingpeople.Ihadthisdream,whenIfirststartedhighschool….Iwantedtobecalled‘seonbae.’”ShemustseethatIdon’tknowthetermbecausesheexplains,“‘Seonbae’iswhatunderclassmenusetoaddressupperclassmen.IwantedoneoftheyoungerstudentstocallouttomeSori-seonbaeandaskformyhelp.”Shecurlsherhairaroundherfinger.“Embarrassing,right?”
Ihavethissuddenurgetohugher.She’sadorable.OfcourseNathanielcouldn’thelpfallingforher.
“That’sso…pure,”Igush.
Shelaughs,andthensays,seriously,“Fromthetop?”
Bythetimemidnightrollsaround,I’mactuallykindofgettingthehangofthechoreography.It’slikemybodyhasgonethroughthemovementssomanytimesthatIdon’thavetothinkaboutwhatcomesnext.AfterIfinallynailatrickybitoffootwork,Soricallsforanotherbreakandwebustoutthesnacks.VitaminwaterandcrunchyricebarsforSori,shrimpcrackersandGatoradeforme.
Aftereating,welaydownonourbacksinthemiddleofthestudio,lookupattheceiling,andjusttalk.ItellheraboutmylifegrowingupinLAwithmymomanddad,abouthowtheybothworkedfoodservicejobswhilemymomwentthroughlawschool.Thenhowafewyearsafterthekaraokebaropened,hegotthediagnosis.Iskipoverthehardyears,whenhewasinthehospital,andfastforwardtomyplansforthefuture—collegeinNewYorkCity,completeindependence.
SoritellsmeaboutherlifegrowingupintheaffluentialneighborhoodofApgujeong,howshe’sanonlychildtoo.ThatbesideshermotherbeingtheCEOofJoah,herfatherisapolitician,whichmeantthatalotofherfriendswereeitherchildrenofchaebolfamiliesorkidsfromschoolwhoseparentsforcedthemtobefriendher.
Howacoupleofyearsbackherfatherhadhadahighlypublicizedaffair,whichresultedinherso-calledfriendsturningtheirbacksonher.Itwasanawful,exhaustingtime,andthepersonwhowasthereforher,whowasherrockthroughitall,wasNathaniel.
Shesmilesassherecountsherimpressionofhimattheirfirstmeeting,boththirteenyearsold.Shethoughthewasapunkandatroublemaker.Foryearstheyteasedandtriedtoone-upeachother.
“Youknow,”shesays,“howsometimesinmiddleschoolaboywillbemeantothepersonhelikes?”
“Wow,Nathaniel,”Idrawl.“Totallynotcool.”
“Iknow,right?”Shelaughsthoughhervoicehasasadqualitytoit.
“Doyouwanttogetbacktogetheragain?”
She’squietforalongtime,I’mnotsureifshe’llanswer.Finally,shesays,“Iwanttobeanidol.It’smydream,Jenny.”
“O-kay,butyoucanstillbeanidolanddateNathaniel,can’tyou?Orisityourmom?”
“It’snotjustmymotherorthecompany.It’smorethanthat.”
“Whatreasonsaretherebesidesthat?”
Sheturnsonhersidetolookatme.“Youreallydon’tknow?”
“No,”Isay,“butIwantto.”
Forher.ForNathaniel.ForGiTaekandAngela,whosharethesamedream.
ForJaewoo.
“It’sagreathonortobeanidol.You’veachievedadreamthatsomanypeoplewantaswell.Butthat’sonlythebeginning.Youhavetoworkhardtoreleasegoodmusic,maintainyourimageandbrand,performwell,winawards,topcharts,holdfansignings,goonvarietyshows,supportyourgroupmembers’soloactivities,haveyourownsoloactivities…”Shestops,catchingherbreath.“Whenyouaddanotherpersonintothemix,somepeoplethinkittakesawayfromallofthat.Likeyouhaveapersonwhoismoreimportantthanallthoseotherthings,apartofyourlifeyou’renotsharing,when,asanidol,youagreedtoshareyourwholelifewithyourfans,sothattheycanloveyouwithoutfearthatyou’lldisappointorhurtthem.”
Shesighs.“Atleast,that’showI’vealwaysthoughtofit,andit’sthereasonIcanmostunderstand.Iwanttomakepeoplesmile.Iwanttowarmtheirhearts.AndifdatingmakespeopleworryorfeellikeI’mnottryinghardenough,thenI…won’t.”
Itrytounderstandwhatshe’ssaying;it’ssooutoftherealmofanythingI’veeverhadtoworryabout.“Idon’tthinkbeinginarelationshiptakesawayfromallyourhardwork.Youcan’taimtopleaseeveryone,youcanonlyaimtopleaseyourself.”
Sheoffersmeabemusedsmile.“That’sveryAmericanofyoutothinkthatway.Nathaniel’slikethattoo.Screweveryoneelse.Liveyourbestlife.”
“Imean…notexactlythat.Morelike,youneedtobestrongforyourselffirst,behealthyandhappyforyourselffirst,beforeyoucanbestrongandgivehappinesstoothers.Thehealthierandhappieryouare,themoreyoucangivetoyourfans,right?Theyshouldwantthatforyou.”
Sherestsherheadonherhands,noddingslowly.
“Plus,comeon,don’tyouthinkafterfallinginlove,you’lljusthavethatmanymorelovesongstowrite?”
Shelaughs.“We’rejumpingaheadofourselves.Idon’thaveanyfans,Jenny!”
“That’snottrue.Youhaveme.”
“Iknowwejustrecentlywentfromroommatestofriends,”shesaysshyly,“butcanIhugyou?
“Um,yes!”IreachoutandtakeherintoanUncleJay–likehug,slightlysuffocating.
“You’resweaty!”Shegiggles.
“Youaretoo!”Ipushherawayandshelaughs,placingherhandsoverherface.
It’soneo’clockinthemorning.Wesprawlonourbacksagain.Neitherofusspeaksforawhile,andIthinkSori’shalfasleepwhensherollstohersideandmurmurs,“Ifcellistshavefanclubs,Jenny,Iwanttojoinyours.”Twenty-Two
OnSunday,IvisitHalmeoniintheclinicandwewatchaweekenddramawithherroommatesontheTVintheroom.It’salreadyonepisodeseventy-eightofwhatmyhalmeonitellsmeisaone-hundred-episodedrama.
FromwhatIgatherfromtheotherhalmeoniandthedramaitself,thestoryfollowsayoungwomanwho,asachild,waslostatseaduringaboatingaccident,onlytobeadoptedbyafisherman.Turnsout,she’stheactualdaughterofabillionaireandheiressofahugeconglomerateinSeoul.Butheridentitywasstolenbyawomanwhowitnessedtheaccidentandinstatedherowndaughterintheyoungwoman’splace,soshegrewuptheheiress.Meanwhile,theyoungwomanistornbetweentheloveoftwomen,aboyfromhervillagewhoraisedhimselffromnothingtobecomeafishingtycoonandthesonofanotherchaebolfamilywhowasbetrothedtoherfrombirth.Alsopossiblyhermotherwasmurdered,andshemighthaveaterminalillness?
Aftertheepisodeisover,IpulloutthefoodI’dboughtfromthebakery,aloafofsourdoughbread,thick,creamybutter,andblackberryjam.
“You’resolucky,Eonni,”Halmeoni’sneighborinthebedtoherrightsays,“tohavesuchacaringgranddaughter.”
Herneighborinthebedacrosstheroomshakesherhead,clickinghertonguedisapprovingly.“Ifonlyyourdaughtershowedyouasmuchaffection.”
“NobadwordsaboutmySoojung,”Halmeonichidesherfriend.“I’mproudofherandhowhardsheworks.”
MomwassupposedtojoinHalmeoniandmetoday,butshe’sbeenbusywithanewcasethathercolleaguebackintheStatesforwardedtoher,animmigrationdisputeconcerningNorthKorea.Momcouldn’tresist,andIcan’texactlybeupsetshe’snothere.She’sdoingimportantworkandI’mproudofher.
Butitdoessucknotspendingmoretimewithher,likeIthoughtIwould.Still,she’llcometotheshowcaseattheendofthesemester,where,hopefully,I’llhaveasolo.
“YouremindmesomuchofSoojung,”Halmeonisays.“Shewasalwayssoindependent.Sosureofwhatshewantedinlife.Sheknewasthedaughterofafishstallworker,theoddswerestackedagainsthersuccess,soshestudiedhard,workedpart-timetoearnmoneytopayforEnglishclasses,andfinallygotascholarshiptoattendcollegeinAmerica,whereshemetyourfatherandhadyou.”Halmeonismiles,butthere’sasadnesstohereyes.She’salwayssocheerfulthatitcatchesmebysurprise.
“Iknowshe’salwaysbeenresentfulthatIsentheraway…”
ThismustbethereasonforHalmeoniandMom’sstrainedrelationship.ButIthinkHalmeoni’sbeingtoohardonherself.It’sMom’sfaultifshecan’tseethathermotherwasonlytryingtogiveherthebestlife,bynotholdingherback.
“She’slikethatheroineinthedrama,”IsaytomakeHalmeonilaugh.“Atleastthefishpart.”
Whenshedoeslaugh,Ifeelwarmandfuzzyinside.Ispendseveralmorehourswithher,thoughafterseeingthatflashofsadness,Ican’tunseeit.
Iknowshelovesmeandishappytospendtimewithme.ButIcantellwithherlongingglancesatthedoor,thatshewishesherdaughterwerehere.
Andthethingis,Idon’tblameher,becauseIdotoo.
It’slateafternoonbythetimeIleave,feelingemotionallyexhausted.Outinthequad,Istandinthemiddleofthelawn,liftingmyfacetothesunasifIcanabsorbitsenergy.
AsIturnaroundIseeamanwearingabuckethatandsunglassesisloiteringbeneaththetrees.Iwouldn’tnormallytakenoticeexceptthathe’scarryingalargecamerabag.
Afterthebroomclosetincident,whenYoungmincametofindJaewoobecausetherewasamanwhowasstalkinghim,I’dlookedupthephotographercreditedonthephotosofNathanielandSori.I’mnotpositivethisisthemanwhotookthepictures,butjustincase,IneedtowarnJaewoo.It’slaterthanthetimeIranintohimlastweekwhenhewasherefortherapy,butIwanttomakecertain.
Iwatchthemanoutofthecornerofmyeyeuntilhepasses,thenwhirlaround.IquicklypullupamapoftheCamelliaHealthVillageonmyphone,findingabuildingnearbythatsoundspromising:CamelliaCounseling.Imakemywayover,keepingabriskbutevenwalk.Shouldthemanlookoverandcatchsightofme,there’snoreasonforhimtotakenotice.I’mnotwearingmySeoulArtsuniform,justmyfavoritefauxleatherjacketandmyDodgerscap.
IreachthebuildingofCamelliaCounselingandthedoorsslideopensoundlesslyatmyapproach.
Inside,thesetupforthebuildingmirrorsmygrandmother’sclinic,withawaitingareaandareceptionistdesk.Theinteriorwallsarepaintedincalm,light-bluecolors,andthere’sasmallindoorwaterfall.
Thewomanatthedesksmilesserenelyatme,whichisatoddswiththeadrenalinecoursingthroughmybody.WhatdoIevensaytoher?IsBaeJaewooapatienthere?She’llthinkI’mastalkerandhavemebootedfromthepremises,whichwillonlydrawunnecessaryattention.
“Jenny?”
“Jaewoo!”Igrabhisarmanddraghimbehindawall,awayfromthewindows.
I’mmomentarilydistractedbecausehe’swearingablacksweatercutlowaroundhisneckline,showinghiscollarbones.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”heasks.
Focus,Jenny.Ilookupathisface.“I’mheretowarnyou.”
Heraisesasingleeyebrow.
“Okay,thatwasalittledramatic.Butinmydefense,IjustspentthemorningwatchingthiswildmakjangK-dramawithmygrandma.”Itakeadeepbreath.“There’samanwithacameraoutside.Ithinkhe’sthatpaparazziajeossiyouweretellingmeaboutbefore.”
Ascowldescendsacrosshishandsomefeatures.“Waithere.”Pressinghisbacktothewall,heglancesaroundthecorner.Heonlylooksforabriefsecondbeforehereturns,grabbingmyhand.“It’shim,allright,”hesays.“We’llavoidhimbygoingouttheemergencyexit.”
Jaewoo’sgriponmyhandistightasheleadsmedownonehall,thenanother.Technicallythere’snoreasonformetogowithhim—thepaparazziajeossiisn’tafterme—butJaewoodoesn’tletgo.AndafterthedayIhad,Idon’twanttoletgoeither.
Ablackvaniswaitingacrossthestreetfromthebackexit,idlingbythecurb.Jaewooreleasesmyhandonlytoslidethevandooropen,gesturingformetoclimbinfirst.ItaketheseatbythefarwindowandJaewoojumpsinafter,slidingthedoorclosed.Hehitstheroofofthecar.“Let’sgo,Hyeong.”
That’swhenInoticethatXOXO’smanagerisinthedriver’sseat.Irecognizehimfromtheuniformstore.Hedoesn’tquestionJaewoo—aquickgetawaymustbeacommonenoughoccurrence—switchingthegearshiftandacceleratingfromzerotosixtykilometersinamatterofseconds.
Heslowsdownafterdrivingacoupleofblocks,checkinghissidemirrorstoensurenooneisfollowingus.Hethenlooksup,studyingmethroughtherearviewmirror.“Who…?”
“She’saclassmateofNathaniel’sandmine,”Jaewooexplains.“WewerebeingtrailedbythatreporterwhoworksforBulletin.”
HemustnothaveseenJaewooholdingmyhandbecausehedoesn’tcommentonit.Eitherthatorhe’susedtokeepingtheboysofXOXO’ssecrets.
“Whereareyougoing,Jenny?”Jaewooasksme.“Canwedropyouoffsomewhere?”
“We’rerunninglateasitis,”XOXO’smanagersays.
“It’sfine,”Isay.“Icantakeacabfromwhereveryou’regoing.”
Jaewoodoesn’tpresstheissue.
XOXO’smanager,NamJiSeok,whosenameIremembernowfromwhenJaewootoldme,flicksontheturnsignal,maneuveringthevanontoarampthat’lltakeusoverabridgeacrosstheHanRiver.IknowfromGiTaekthatagoodmanagerissomeonewhofulfillsmanyrolesinanidol’slifebesidesorganizingtheiractivities—bodyguard,driver,confidante,friend.
IwonderifJaewoohaseventoldhimaboutus.Though,whatistheretotell?
LasttimeIsawhim,hedefendedmycharacterinfrontofSoriandNathanielandanentirelunchroom.Butbeforethat,he’dwalkedoutonmeasIgaveoneofthebestperformancesofmylife,withoutanexplanation.
Iwanttobehisfriend.EversincethatnightinLA,there’sbeenaconnectionbetweenus.Aspark.ButIfeellikemyheartisconstantlybeingpushedandpulled.I’monlyhereinKoreaforfivemonths—fournow—doIreallywanttowaitforhimtomakeuphismindaboutme?
I’mtiredofwaiting.
“Jenny?”ImusthavebeenstaringintospacebecausewhenIfocusonJaewoo,he’sstudyingme.“Iseverythingallright?”
“Yeah,Iwasjust…makingmymindupaboutsomething.”
Hefrowns.
ThenavigationontheGPSpingsandawomanpolitelytellusinKoreanthatwe’llbearrivingatourdestinationshortly.
XOXO’smanagerturnsfromamainroad.Upaheadisalargebuilding,thelettersEBC,forEntertainmentBroadcastingCenter,inblueatthetop.
Asweapproach,NamJiSeokslowsthecar.Outsidethestation,ahugecrowdofpeopleisgathered,evenmorethanwereinfrontoftheuniformstore.Mostofthepeopleareyoung,middle-andhigh-schoolstudents,wearingmasksovertheirmouths,presumablytoconcealtheirfacesincasethey’recaughtontelevisionskippingcramschooltofollowidolsaround.
“We’llhavetogoaroundback,”Jaewoosays.
“There’snotenoughtime,”JiSeokresponds.
Avanpullsaheadofus,parkinginfrontofthebuilding,andthecrowdimmediatelyswarmsit.
“Thisisourchance!”XOXO’smanagerjerksthevanforward.“You’llhavetocomeinsidewithus,”hetellsme.“Ican’triskleavingyoualoneinthevan.Here,wearthis.”Hethrowsmeaclothfacemask.Iputiton,hookingthestrapsaroundmyears.I’malreadywearingmyDodgerscap,soIloweritovermyeyes.“Youcanpassforabackupdancerorastylist.Justkeepyourheaddown.Ready?”
Everythinghappenssofast.Hepullsupinfrontofthebuilding,behindtheothervan.Thedoorsmusthaveanautomaticopenfeaturebecausetheyopenonbothsides.Jaewoohopsoutofoneside,JiSeokandIhopoutoftheother.
“Jaewoo-oppa!”someonescreams.
Thegroundbeneathourfeetbeginstorumble.Ilookovertoseearushofpeoplecomingatus,likeanoncomingtidalwave.
ThenJiSeokgrabsmyarmandwesprintpastthecrowdandthroughthedoorsofthebroadcastingstation,thesecurityguardsquicklyclosingthembehindus.
Iputmyhandsonmykneestocatchmybreath,thentakealookatmysurroundings.
It’smarkedlyquietafterthetumultofthecrowd.
Thegroupthatenteredbeforeuslingers,talkingamongthemselves.Theymustbeanotherboygroup,likeXOXO.UnlikeJaewoo,they’realreadydressedintheirstageoutfits,lotsofredandblackleatherandtightpants.
“Hurryup,”JiSeoksays,callingusovertoanunmarkeddoorinthelobby.
“Ishouldgo,”IsaywhenJaewoostartstofollow.Atmyvoice,heturnstolookatme.“Icanjustslipouttheback.”
“Therearetoomanypeopleoutside,”Jaewoosays,afrownedginghislips.
“It’sfine,”Isay.“I’musedtodisappearingintocrowds.”Wow,thatsoundsdramatic.“Imean,I’musedtocrowds.Likeingeneral.”Itakeastepback.“I’lljust…seemyselfout.”
AsIturn,Jaewoograbsmywrist.
Acrossthelobby,theboysintheothergrouphaveallquieted,staring.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Ihiss.
“I’llworryifyougooutthere,”hesays.
Igapeathim.There’sareckless,stubbornlookinhiseye.
“Jenny,Jaewoo!”JiSeokbarksandIjump,eyeswide.Hepointsafingeratme.“Youcanleaveoncetheshowstartsandthecrowd’sdispersed.Now,comeon!”
Wehurryforward,Jaewoodroppingmywrist.
Pasttheunmarkeddoorisahallwaycrowdedwithidols,backupdancers,stylists,makeupartists,managers,productionassistants,andatonofotherpeoplewhosepurposeI’munclearon,butwholookstressedoutenoughtobelonghere.Aswepassbydifferentidolgroups,theyeitherbowtoJaewooorviceversa.IknowfromGiTaek’sK-poplesson101thatthere’sahierarchybetweenidolsdependingonwhodebutedfirst,andIfollowJaewoo’slead,bowinglikeI’mpartofhisentourage.
JiSeokleadsustoadressingroomwithasignonthedoorthatreads:XOXO.Heopensthedoorwithoutknocking.Inside,YoungminswivelsonachairinfrontofamountedwallTV,whileNathanielisplayingwithabaseball,throwingitintheairandcatchingit,andSunisreadingabook.Allthreelookupatourentrance.
“Jenny-nuna!”Youngminsays,jumpingoutofhischair.“Whatareyoudoinghere?Haveyoucometowatchusperform?”
Nathanielgrins,standing.“Oh,who’sthis?Haveyoubroughtusanewbackupdancer?”
“Har,har,veryfunny,”Isay.
Suncloseshisbookwithasnap.
“Whyarenoneofyoudressed?”JiSeokgroans,exacerbated.“Oratleastinmakeup?”
“Wewerewaitingfor—”Nathanielbegins.Behindusthedoorburstsopenandmenandwomencarryingpilesofclothing,accessories,andmakeupkitsrushin.Suddenlyit’schaos,Youngmingettingcorneredbyastylist,amakeupartistchasingNathanieldown,andSunconsultingcalmlywithahairstylist.AsforJaewoo…ourgazesmeet.Hemakesamovetowardme,butsuddenlyJiSeok’sbetweenus,pushingmeoutoftheroom.
“Theboysneedtogetready,”hetellsme.“Youcanwaitoverhere.”Hestartsshufflingmedownthehalltoadoorthatopensbackstage.Loudmusicfillsmyears,thefloorseemingtothrumwithit.“Youcanwatchtheperformancefromthewings.It’sthebestseatinthehouse.”Hisphonethenlightsupandhescurriesaway,leavingmealonebackstageduringthemiddleofafull-blownK-popshow.
Iwatchthroughamonitorasanidolgirlgroupdancesinperfectsynchronization,theirvoicessmoothanddulcet.Thecamerapanstotheaudience.Someonemusthaveletinthecrowdthatwaswaitingoutsidebecausethestudioispacked.Dozensofboys,mostly,shout-singalongwiththelyrics,holdingupsignsandsoakingintheexcitementoftheperformance.
Afterthegirlgroup’sperformanceends,theshowgoestoacommercialbreak.Severalsecurityguardsrushintothecrowd,usheringoutthepeoplestandinginthefrontandlettinginnewpeople.AsIobserve,Irealizewhat’shappening.Thoughthemainaudienceseatedinthestadiumremainsthesame,thepeoplestandinginfrontofthestagechangesdependingontheidolgrouptheysupport.ThegroupenteringtheropedoffareanowhavewiththemabannerwiththewordsKissandHugClubwrittenacross.AllofthemaregrippinglightsticksshapedlikeeitheranXoranO,andafewholdsignswiththemembers’nameswrittenonthefront.Jaewoo.Sun.Youngmin.AndJihyuk,whichIknowisNathaniel’sKoreanname.
There’sashiftinthenoisebackstageandIlookovertoseethemembersofXOXO,Sunleading,andthenNathanielandYoungmin.
Theylookincredible.Theirstageoutfitscanonlybedescribedaspost-apocalypticchic,artfullyrippeddesignerwear,theirhairseeminglywind-tossed—well,notSun.Sun’slonghairisimpeccablystraight.
AndthenIseeJaewoo.
Somehow,inthespanofafewminutes,he’stransformedfromahandsomehigh-schoolboytoanalarminglyattractiveK-popstar.
He’sinallblack,asilky,rippedtopandtight-fittingpants.Hishairstylisthasmanagedtogivehisdarktressesasortofwetappearance,asifhe’ssteppedinfromtherain.Hiseyes,astheymeetmine,seemdarkerthanusual—orisitthemakeup?
Sunwalksbywithoutacknowledgingme,butYoungmingrinsandwaves,doingtheheartsignwithhisfingers.
Nathanielpausestosay,“Wishmeluck.”
AndIanswer,“Breakaleg.”
ThenJaewoo’sinfrontofme.
“Willyoustay?”heasks.“Untilaftertheperformance.There’ssomethingIwanttotalktoyouabout.”
BeforeIcananswer,he’sbeingcalledonstage.Iwatchashemovestothefrontoftheformation.
Thenthestagelightsgoonandthemusicbegins.Twenty-Three
Atthebeginningofthesong,thefanschanteachmemberofXOXO’snames.OhSun.LeeJihyuk.BaeJaewoo.ChoiYoungmin.Itsetsthemoodandtheboysgiveaspectacularperformance.
Afterward,therestoftheidolswhoperformedearliermaketheirwaytothestage.It’sgettingcrowdedwhereIam,soIgoinsearchofaquietareatoviewtheshow’sawardsceremony.IwindupinXOXO’sdressingroom,afterrememberingtheTVthere.SittingonSun’scouch,IpickupthebaseballNathanielhadbeenplayingcatchwithearlierandclickonthemonitor.TwoMCswithabouquetofflowersandacrystalawardwalkoverfromwherethey’dbeenhostingtheshowfromaseparateareaofthestudio.TheyapproachXOXOandtherestoftheidols.
“Wow,whatagreatperformancebyXOXO!”theboyannouncersays.
“Right,Seojun-ssi?”thegirlconcurs.“Maybethey’llhavetheirfirstwinthisweek!”
“We’llfindoutsoon!It’stimetotallyupthevotes.”
Onthemonitor,agraphicappearsshowingthethreeidolgroupsincontentiontowintheaward.
“Whowilltakefirstplacethisweek?”theboyannouncersays.
Istandup,holdingtheballtight.
Thenumberstallyingupthevotesbegintospinupward,presumablymeasuringhowwellthesingleperformedondigitalchartsandsocialmedia,aswellasalbumsalesandreal-timevoting.
“Andthewinneris…”thegirlsays.
Thenumberssuddenlystop,withthehighestnumberbelongingto…
“XOXO!”ThetwoMCsshouttogetherandIscream,accidentallyreleasingtheball,whichgoesflyingacrosstheroomandbehindarackofclothes.
Asconfetticannonsexplodeontothestage,Iheadovertotherack,gettingdownonmyhandsandknees.
Still,I’mbeaming.I’msohappyforthem!WhatdidthefemaleMCsaybefore?Thisistheirfirstwin.IcanhearSunacceptingtheawardonbehalfofXOXO,thankingtheirfansandfamiliesforsupportingthem.
Thedoortothedressingroomopens.Voicesfloodin,drowningoutSun’sonthetelevision.I’mabouttopopoutfrombehindtheracklikeaghoulwhenoneofthevoicessays,“DidyouseethatgirlwithJaewoo?”
“Nathanielsaysshe’saclassmateofhis,”anothervoiceanswers.“Fromhishighschool.”
Ipressmybackagainstthewallandpeekaroundtherack.TwoofXOXO’sstylistsareintheroom,cleaninguptheirstations.
“Tonightwastheboys’firstwin.Thisisprobablythemostimportanttimeintheircareer.Iftheycankeepthemomentumgoing,theycouldbehugeglobalstars.Theycan’taffordanotherscandal.Theyalmostdidn’tcomebackfromthatlastone.”
There’sabriefsilence,thentheothermurmursinagreement.
“Shecouldruineverything.”
Oncethestylistspackuptheirthingsandleave,I’mquicktofollow.Outsidethestation,thecrowdfromtheaudienceismakingtheirwaytothesubway.Ijointhem,blendingin.Reachingintomyjacketpocket,Iwrapmyhandaroundtheball,whichItotallystolefromNathaniel.Iwillgiveitback.Eventually.Ijustneedsomethingtoholdontorightnow.
IthinkIunderstandnowwhyJaewooleftthatdayaftermycelloperformance.Becauseherealizedthatourlivesaretoodifferent.Notjustthathe’sanidol,thoughseeinghimnowperformonstage,hearinghisnamecriedoutbyhisfans,thecircumstancesofhislifearesoextraordinaryastoseemunreal.Butitisreal,thesuccessofhisbandandallthepeoplewhoselivelihoodsdependonthem,asaretheconsequences.Shecouldruineverything
Seeingthelightofthesubwayexitupahead,Ihurryforward.
Ahandgrabsmyshoulder,twistingmearound.
IlookupintoJaewoo’sface.
He’swearingaballcapthatshadowshiseyes,andaclothmaskoverhisnoseandmouth.
Thecrowdpartsaroundus,thoughafewthrowcuriousglancesinourdirection.Hetakesmyhandandwemakeourwayoutofthecrowd,droppingitoncewe’reclear.
Jaewoomusthaveadestinationinmindbecausehewalkswithouthesitation,leadingmedownanalleynarrowenoughthatifIweretoliftbotharms,myfingerswouldskimthewallsoneitherside.Weclimbashortflightofstairs,turndownafewmorestreetsandalleys,andfinallywalkupsuchalongstaircasethatwhenIreachthetop,I’mbreathless.
We’reinasmallparkthatoverlooksthecity.Ithasarunningtrail,afewpublic-useexercisemachines,andachildren’splayareawithasetofswings.
“Wantto…?”Jaewooasks,andInod.Wemakeourwayovertotheswings,eachtakingoneofthesingleseats.Wefacethesamedirection,towardtheledge.Beyondtherailing,Seoulspreadsoutformilesandmiles,hundredsofthousandsofbrightlights,twinklinglikestars.
Ihaven’tbeenonaswingsinceIwasinelementaryschool,soIkickofftheground,enjoyingtherockingmotionandthewindonmyface.Jaewoo’slegsarelongersohedoesn’tswing,leaninghisheadonthechainashewatchesme.He’sremovedhisfacemaskandtakenoffhisballcap,andthoughhe’schangedoutofhisperformanceclothesandwashedthemakeupfromhisface,he’ssohandsome,it’shardtolookaway.IgiveonefinalpumpofmylegsandasI’mswingingforward,Nathaniel’sbaseballplopsfromoutofmypocketontothegrassyfloor.
Jaewooleansdownandpicksitup.“Isthis…?”
Idigmyfeetintotheground,slowingmymomentum.“Yes,”Isay,thoughnowI’mblushing.
WhenJaewoosaysnothing,Ilookovertofindhimstudyingtheball,acontemplativelookonhisface.
“What?”Iask.
Heshakeshishead.Laughs.“Thisball”—hetossesitupintheair,thencatchesit—“isthereasonIbrokemyarmbackinNovember.”
Istopswingingaltogether.“What?”
Hegripsthechain,grinningatmyexpression.
“Ithappenedthelastnightofalongthree-nightshoot.Wewerefilminginthiswarehouse,whichwewerewarnedhadpartsleftunfinished,butwewerefeelingboredandstressed.Duringabreakinthefilming,NathanielandIdecidedtothrowabaseballaround.Wewerebothinalittleleague,whenwewereyounger.”
“OhmyGod,that’ssocute,”Iinterrupt.“Sorry,continue.”
“So,yeah,wewerepassingitbackandforth,havingagreattime.Andthenhethrewitlong,andIwentforit.IfeltthesatisfactionofithittingmyglovejustasIcrashedintoaplasterwall.Thewholethingcamedownontopofme.
“Themusicvideodirectorwaslivid.Hescoldedusforanhour.Hesaidthatweweren’tgrateful,thatwewereadimeadozen,thatifwewantedtobesuccessfulweneededtotakethisseriously.”
“Idon’tlikethatdirector,”Ideclare.“Idon’tcarehowgorgeousthemusicvideoendedupbeing.”
Jaewooshakeshishead,thoughthere’sasmileonhisface.“Wehadtocutfilmingprematurely.Luckilywehadanalternativeending,whichwastheonetheyeventuallyused.Butstill,Ifeltlikesuchadisappointment.Ibrokemyarm,andforwhat?Amomentoffun.Soaftertheshootwasoverandwewereatdinner,Iexcusedmyselffromthetableandjust…left.Ilefttherestaurantandwalkedandwalked,untilIsawthelightofyouruncle’skaraokebar.”
Hehesitates,andthensays,softly,“Ievensawyouthatnight,laughingwithyouruncleasyousatonthebarstool,yourhairloosedownyourback.”
Istareathiminshock,rearrangingthatnightinmyhead.Notthatitmakesadifferenceonhowthenighteventuallyplayedout.
Ipressmyfootagainsttheground,butImustpushatawronganglebecausetheswingrockscrookedly.
“Whydidyouleave,Jenny?”Jaewooasks,andmyheartstuttersinmychest,eventhoughIknewhewouldaskmeeventually.
Thisistheend.Oncewehavethisconversation,there’snoreasontokeepstubbornlyholdingfasttothisconnectionbetweenus.Heneedstoconcentrateonwhatmatters,hiscareer.
AndIneedtogetmyacttogetherandfocusonwhatmatters,mycelloplaying,theshowcase,myfuture.
“Forthesamereasonyouleftmetheotherdayattheclinic,”Isay,andI’mproudofmyselfbecausemyvoicecomesoutsteady.“Nathanielmoreorlessspelleditout.”Jaewoofrowns.“It’sbecauseyouhavemoreatstake.Igetit,really.Ourlivesaretoodifferent.”
“Ourlivesaredifferent,”Jaewoosays,andmyheartsinks,eventhoughIliterallypreparedforthis.“Butthat’snotwhyIleft.”
Myswingrattles,andIlookuptoseehe’sseizedontothechainofmyseat,pullingmeclose.Ihavetograbontohischaininordernottofallback.
“IdohavemoretolosethanNathaniel,”hesays,andthemiserablefeelingrisesup.“Afterall,hisheart’snotatstake.”
Mybreathcatches.IshesayingwhatIthinkhe’ssaying?
“Ilikeyou,Jenny,”heconfesses.“MorethanI’veeverlikedanyonebefore.Ithitmethatdayattheclinichowmuch.AndIdidwhatIalwaysdowhenIfeeloverwhelmed.Iran.”
“Andnow?”Iask.
“I’mnotrunninganymore.”
Withthehandthatisn’tholdingmyseat,heliftsmyfacetohisandkissesme.
Atfirst,it’saclose-mouthedkiss,softandsweet.Butthenheleansforward,andIfeelmyballcaptipoffmyheadasmylipspartbeneathhis.Iwouldcollapse,weak-kneed,ifIwasn’talreadysitting.Herunshishandthroughmyhair,asIwraponearmaroundhisneck,holdinghimclose.
Idon’tknowhowlongwekissinthatpark,withthecitybelowusandthestarsupabove.
Idon’tknowwhatthiswillmeanforusgoingforward.Willweeverhaveamomentlikethisagain?Butnoneofthatmatters.Ipushitalltothebackofmymind.Becausetonight,theworldisours.Twenty-Four
ThenextdayisMonday.Iwakeearlierthanusual,rollingoverinmybedtolookacrosstheroom.Sori’salreadygoneforhermorningworkout.She’dbeenasleepwhenIreturnedlastnight,otherwiseI’dhaveaskedhertowakemeup.I’mnotahugefanofexerciseanytimebeforeeighta.m.,butIneedanoutletforalltheadrenalinecoursingthroughmybody.Ihurryupandchangeintomyuniform,waitinginthelonglineforthebathroomtowashandexaminemyfaceinthemirror.DoIlooklikeagirlwho’dbeenthoroughlykissedthenightbefore?Iglancearoundattheothergirls,butnooneispayingmeanyattention,toobusypullingouttheirhairrollersandcatchinguponwhattheydidovertheweekend.
Homeroomismuchofthesame.Theteachertakesattendanceandthenleavesforafacultymeeting.Jaewooisn’tinclassbuthetoldmehewouldn’tbe.Lastnight,we’dcaughtataxitotheacademy,andthoughwehardlyspoketoeachother,ourfacesturnedtowardoppositewindows,weheldhandstheentireway.He’dhadthetaxidriverdropmeoffatthebackofmydorm,notleavinguntilIwassafelyinside,beforeheadingtohisowndorm.
IspendhomeroomchattingwithSoriaboutourweekends.IwanttotellheraboutwhathappenedwithJaewoobutnotinaplacewhereothersmighthear.Ihaven’ttoldherbeforenowbecauseIwantedtorespectJaewoo’swishtokeepwhateverwehadasecret,butnowthingsaregettingmoreserious,andI’dloveafriendtotalkto,especiallySori,whounderstandswhatit’slikenotonlytobeanidolbuttodateone.
Instead,IholdupherpinkKakaoFriendsmirrorforherwhilesheapplieseyelinerandlipgloss.
“Thisismymorningworkout,”Ijoke.
“Stopshaking.Keepitstraight.”
Nothingcanbringdownmymood,notevenJina,whotriestotakemyheadoffindodgeball.
Atlunch,SorijoinsAngela,GiTaek,andmeatourusualtable.NeitherAngelanorGiTaekcommentsonthisnewdevelopment.
“Youcansitnexttome,”Angelasays,pullingoutachairforSori,whositsprimlyattheedge.
“Whyisthelunchlinesolongtoday?”IaskwhenInoticethelinestretchingoutthedoor.
“They’reservingmacarons!”Angelaexclaims.“It’sthemostpopularmealitematSAA.Thekitchenonlygivesonepertray.I’veknownpeoplewho’vepurchasedtwomealsjustsotheycouldeattwo.”
Asiftodemonstrate,Soripicksupthetinypinkconfectionfromhertray,placingitdelicatelybetweenherlips.Shebitesdown,chewingslowly,swallows,thensighs.
“YoushoulddocommercialsforSAA,”Isay.
“Shehas,”GiTaekandAngelasayatthesametime.
“Isthisseattaken?”NathanielpullsoutthechaironAngela’sotherside
There’ssimilarmovementbesideme.Iturnandgape.“Ithoughtyousaidyouweren’tcomingtoschooltoday?”
Jaewootakesaseat.“Changeofplans.”
Lastnightwedidn’texactlydiscusswhatthatkiss—kisses—wouldmeanforour…relationship.We’renolongerjustfriends—thoughitseemsclearwithoutsayingthat,whateveritis,we’llkeepittoourselvesforawhilelonger.
ThoughIalreadyknowI’mgoingtobesobadatthis.Myfaceisturningredwithjustthethoughtofhiskisses.
“Didyoucuttheline?”Soriaskssuddenly.
Likeallofus,NathanielandJaewoohavetrayswiththecovetedpastry.
“Itpaystobenicetothelunchladies,Sori-yah,”Nathanielsays.Seeingashowlasttimetheywereinthislunchroomtogethertheygotintoahugeargument,they’reactingfairlycivil.Sorirollshereyes,whileNathanielplucksthemacaronfromhistrayandstuffsthewholethinginhismouth.
Whenhecatchesmelooking,hesays,“What?Ihavefouroldersisters.WhenIwasgrowingup,ifIleftthegoodstufffortheend,itwasstolenrightoffmyplate!I’dnevergettoenjoyit.”
“Ourmanagercameearlyandwaitedinline,”Jaewooexplains.
PoorNamJiSeok.“Isthatinhisjobdescription?”
“Placatingneedyandhungryboys?”Nathanielanswers.“Yes.”
AngelakeepssneakingglancesatJaewoofromacrossthetable,probablyassuminghe’ssittingwithusbecauseNathanielandSoriare.
“We’rejustheretoeatlunch,”Jaewoosays,“thenwehavetogobacktothestudio.”
“Youcameallthewayheretoeatlunch?”ThisfromGiTaek.
“Todaywasmacaronday,”Nathanielsays.“Wewouldn’tmissitfortheworld.”
AsNathanielengagesGiTaekandAngelainaconversationaboutthemeritsofdining-hallfood,Jaewooshiftsclosertome.
“Youhaven’ttriedthemacaronyet?”
I’mabitoverwhelmedbyhispresence.Thechairsinthedininghallarealreadyprettyclosetogether,andhe’sleaningtowardme.Icansmellhiscologne,asubtle,freshscent,likeaseabreeze.
“Iwassavingitforlast,”Itellhim,“butNathanielmakesagoodargument.”
Ireachforthemacaronandbringittomylips.Ifeelself-conscious,becausehe’swatchingme,butthenIbitedownandthesweetexplosionofflavorsinmymouthisincredible.Thecombinationofthecrispoutsideandthesoftandchewyinside,plustheraspberrybuttercreaminthemiddle.
Igroan,“It’sheavenly.”
“Yeah?”Jaewoolaughs,abitunsteadily.
Withhischopsticks,hepicksuphismacaronandplacesitonmytray.“Haveminetoo.”
Ibeamathim.He’sgivingmehismacaron.It’slikehe’sgivingmehisheart.
IlookuptofindSoristudyingus,herexpressionunreadable.
“No,it’sfine,”Isay.“Youshouldeatit.”Ireturnthemacarontohistray.
“Ifyou’renotgoingtoeatit,Iwill.”Nathanielreachesover,grabsJaewoo’smacaron,andpopsitintohismouth.
Thatnight,I’msittingonmybedwritingapaperforhistoryclass,whenSoriabruptlyturnstowardmefromwhereshe’dbeendoinghomeworkatherdesk.Ialmostyelpinsurprisebecauseshe’swearingabright-redsheetmask
“So,youandJaewoo.”It’sastatement.
“MeandJaewoo,what?”
“Don’tbecutewithme.”Shelooksaway,tapsherheelagainstthebottomofherchair,thenreturnshergaze.“You’renotworriedthatI’lltellmymom?”
“Willyou?”Honestly,itneveroccurredtome.ShemightbethedaughterofJoah’sCEO,butshe’salsomyfriend.
Still,shetakeshersweettimeinanswering,takingoffhersheetmaskandusingthetipsofherfingerstotaptheessenceintoherskin.She’swearingaMinnieMousetowelheadbandtokeepherhairfromherface,whichsheadjusts.
“No,”shesays,afterI’veprettymuchwatchedherpreenherselfforaminuteandahalf.“BeforeIwasyourroommateorevenNathaniel’sgirlfriend,IwasJaewoo’sfriend.Hedeservesthis.”
“Hedeserves…me?”Igrin.“’CauseI’msogreat?”
Sherollshereyes.“Hedeservestobehappy.”
“Wow.”Ididn’tthinkanythingsoclichécouldfeelsogood.ShethinksImakehimhappy?
Shecontinues,“Idon’twanttosay,‘youdon’tknowhimlikeIdo.’”
“Youjustsaidit,”Ipointout.
“BecauseI’msureyou’reboundtoknowhimwaymoreintimatelythanI’veeverknownhim…”
Oh.My.God.
“Buthislifehasn’tbeentheeasiest.Notthatwealthnecessarilymakesthingseasier.”
Spokenlikeatruechaebol.
“ButNathaniel’salwaysbeenvocalaboutwhathewants,whileJaewoo’smorereserved,thinkingofthegroupfirstbeforehimself.Honestly,I’msurprisedheevenconfessedtoyou,assumingthathehas.Itmusthavebeenhardforhim,goingaftersomethinghewants,ratherthanwhat’sbestforthegroup.”
“Aww.”
“ThoughIdon’tknowwhy.It’snotlikeyou’reworthit.”
“Wow,Sori.Ithoughtwewerecomplimentingme.”
“Oh,werewe?”Shegrins.
“Youdon’thavetoworryaboutJaewoo,”Isay.“I’llbesuretotakecareofhisgentleartistsoul.”
“Yes,besuretotakecareofhissoul,”shesays,thenadds,“andhisbody.”
“OhmyGod!”Ithrowmypillowather.Shesprintstoherbedandgrabsastuffedanimal.Shehaslikeahundred.Afterwe“becamefriends,”theyallstartedappearingoutofseeminglynowhere.Ithinkshe’dhiddenthembeneathherbed.
I’mpeltedwithaPikachu.
“Notfair!”Ithrowmyarmsupovermyhead,takingcover.
Thenshe’sonmybed,pillowinhand.Shegoesforaheadshot,butItackleherandshecollapsesbackward,withmeontop.Ican’tbreathe,I’mlaughingsohard.
“You’reheavy!”shecomplains,andImakemyselflikealog.“Ihatethis,”shesays,thoughshe’slaughingashardasIam.Andherlaughislouderthanmine;plusshesnorts.Ourneighborsbangonthewallforustobequiet,whichonlycausesustolaughmore.
Ittakesanotherfiveminutesforustocatchourbreaths,layingwithourshoulderstouching.
“Wouldyoudoitagain?”Iaskher.
Idon’thavetoexplainmyself.SheknowswhatI’masking.Ifsheturnedbacktimeandshehadthechoiceofwhetherornotshe’ddateNathaniel,wouldshedoitalloveragain?
“Inaheartbeat.Evenafterthescandal,evenaftertheaccusationsandtheheartbreakandthepain.Hewasmyfirstlove.Iwouldn’tgivethatupfortheworld.”Twenty-Five
SpringmeanscherryblossomseasonandSAA’sannualschoolcampingtriptooneofSouthKorea’snationalparks,whichapparentlywasontheofficialacademiccalendaronthewebsite.Ihadn’tknownbecausenoonementionedituntilafewdaysbeforewe’resupposedtoleave.
“Ithappenseveryyear,”GiTaekexplained.“You’rejust”—heshrugged—“supposedtoknow.”
“I’matransferstudent!”
“Theschoolsentoutanemail.”
“IfitwasinKorean,thenIdidn’treadit.”
“Youreallyshouldworkonyourreadingskills.”
Thenightbeforewe’rescheduledtoleave,SoriandIpackforthetrip.It’satwoday,onenighttrip,andeachstudentisallowedtopackonesmallduffelbag.
“Areyougoingtobeokay?”IaskSori,whoisn’texactlyaminimalist.
“Shutup.Actually,canyoupackmymakeupcaseinyourbag?Oh,andmyfaceroller?”
“Youdon’tneedtwosetsofpajamas,”Itellher,whenIseeherreachingforbothherpinksilkpj’sandherLINEFRIENDSshortsandT-shirt.
Shespearsmewithalook.“‘Needisrelative.’”
Whensheseesmepackingmydad’soldshirt,sheeyesmejudgingly.“Jenny.”That’sallshesays.Justmyname.Likeit’sasynonymfordisappointment
“What?”
“Thisisatwoday,onenighttrip.”
“Yeah,Iknow.”Ifinallyreadtheinformationpageontheschool’swebsite,whichhadatranslateoption.
“Asin,we’llbesleepingovernightsomewherewithourclassmates.”
“Don’twedothatanyway?”Iask.“Imean,weliveinadorm.”
“Asin,thegirlsandboyswillbeinthesamebuilding,likelyasmallhouseinthemiddleofnowhere,withlittletonosupervision.Asin,Jaewoowillbethere.Asin,youcangetintohispantsorviceversaorboth.”
Forsomeonewho’ssuperintoHelloKitty,shecanbequitecrass.
“Wait,he’sgoingonthetrip?”Hehasn’tbeeninschoolthepastcoupleweeks.AndIhavenomeansofcontactinghimbecausehisphoneisstillbeingmonitored.IguessIcouldcontacthimthroughSori,butIalsodon’twanttogeteitherofthemintotrouble.
“Jenny,noonemissesthistrip.”
Thissoundsmoreominousthanexcitement-inducing,yetconsidermyexcitementinduced.
“Better,”SorisayswhenIholdupapajamaset.Though,assomeonewho’sstuffingahairdryerintoatwenty-two-inchduffel,herpackingprioritiesdon’texactlyinspireconfidence.
Thedayofthetripdawnsdrearywithrainclouds,butthatdoesn’tstopeverystudentatSAA,eventhosewhodon’tstayatthedormsbutwiththeirfamiliesinSeoul,fromarrivingontime,duffelinhand,besidethelongstretchofbusesoutsidetheacademy.
Everystudent,thatis,exceptforthemembersofXOXO.
“Ithoughtyousaidthey’dbehere,”IhissatSori.
“Maybenot.”Shedoesn’tlookhappy,hereyesscanningthecrowd.
“Morning!”Angelacalls,walkingoverarm-in-armwithGiTaek.She’swearinganeongreenrainponchooveramatchingtracksuitset.GiTaek’sdressedjustasstylishlyinwhatispresumablyaJapanesebrand,ifthekanjilogostitchedontothepantlegisanyindication.Theydefinitelytookthelaxdresscodeforthefieldtripandranwithit.
“Goodmorning,”Isay,andacceptahugfromthemboth.AsIstepback,IhavethisweirdoutofbodyexperiencewhereIflashbacktoonlyafewmonthsago,walkingontotheLACHSAcampus.Ineverwouldhaveimaginedhuggingaclassmate.Andnow,itfeelssonatural,sodamnheartwarming,togreetGiTaekandAngelainthisway.
Theybothlookatmestrangely;Imusthaveaweirdexpressiononmyface.
“Doyouthinkwehaveassignedseats?”Iask,coveringupmyattackofaffectionwithaquestion.“Orcanwesitanywhereonthebus?”
“Weprobablyjusthaveassignedbuses,”GiTaeksays.
Ofcourse,he’sright.
GiTaek,Angela,andIhigh-fivewhenourhomeroomclassesareassignedtothesamebus.Wegiveourduffelstothedriverwho’sstackingthemneatlyinthestoragecompartmentbeneaththebus.Afterboarding,werealizemostoftheseatsinthebackarefilledsoSoriandItakeseatsinthemiddle,withGiTaekandAngeladirectlybehindus.Ourclassmonitorshandoutfoodpreparedbythecafeteria—bottlesofwaterandgimbapwrappedintinfoil.
IholdouthopeuntilthelastpossiblemomentthatJaewoomightstillshowup.Seatedbythewindow,Ihaveaclearviewofthecurbsideasthelastofthestudentsboardthebuses,untilonlythesecurityguardremains,shuttingthegatestotheschool.IturnfromthewindowtoseeSoricraningherneckforaglimpse.Ourgazesmeetandsheshakesherhead.
Afterthat,Itrytoresignmyselftoafunfieldtripwithmyfriends.It’snevertooearlyforgimbap,soIunwrapmineandeatitlikeaburrito.Thesmorgasbordofingredientsislikeasymphonyinmymouth—seasonedandsautéedcarrots,spinach,andburdockroot,plusimitationcrab,yellowpickledradish,andbulgogi,neatlyencasedinriceandlaverseaweedandsprinkledwithsesameseeds.
“Iwasn’thungry,”Sorisays,whenIemergefrommyfood-blisstofindherstaringatme.“ButnowIkindofam.”
AswewindourwayoutofSeoul,SoriandIplayphonegames,andItakeaselfiewithSorismilingprettilyandGiTaekandAngelamakingfunnyfacesbehindustosendtoHalmeoni.
Thechatteringdiesdownaspeopleplugintotheirmusicorsettleinforanap.Iopenmyownmusicapp,andsoonRachmaninoffandthedroneofthebusontheroadlullmetosleep.Twenty-Six
SorishakesmeawakeanhourandahalflaterandIseethatwe’vepulledintoareststop.Halfofthestudentshavealreadydisembarked,andthere’snosignofGiTaekandAngela.
“Wehavethirtyminutes,”Sorisays.“Hurryup,Ihavetopee.”
Iquicklystand,lettingSorihaulmeoffthebus.
Studentsfromallthebusesaremakingtheirwayintoalargesingle-storybuilding,withcarsandtouristbusesparkedoutsideit.Outsidethereststop,there’safewfoodcarts—onesellinghotdogs,slatheredinbatterandfried,anothersellingmanju,custard-filledwalnutpastriesintheshapeofhusksofcorn.There’salsoacoffeecartandseveralvendingmachines.
InsidethereststopafoodcourtoffersavarietyoframyeonandudontotraditionalKoreanfarelikebibimbapandhotsoupdishesthatyoucanorderandpickupatdifferentservicecounters.There’salsoafairlylargeconveniencestore.IspotGiTaekandAngelainside,loadinguponsnacksandbottleddrinks.
“Hey,”Sorisays,“areyougoingtothebathroom?”
“No,Iwentbeforeweleft.Alsomybladderisn’tastinyasyours.”
Sherollshereyesandleavesinpursuitoftherestrooms.
Mostofthestudentsareintheconveniencestore,withafeworderinghotmealsatthecounter.I’mstillfullfromthegimbap,soIheadoutsideinsearchofthatcoffeecart.
Afewoftheotherpeopleatthereststophavethesameideabecausethelineislong.Luckily,itmovesprettyfast,andinaboutfiveminutesI’matthefront.Iorderalatteandreachformywallet.
Whichisn’tonme,butwhereIleftit,inmybackpackonthebus.Idon’thavetolookbehindmetoknowthattheamountofpeoplehasdoubledfromwhenIfirstgotinline.Rightafter,aJapanesetourbusarrivedatthereststop,lettingoutalotofcaffeine-dependentadults.
Thevendorlooksatmepityingly.
“I’llpayforher.”
Ialmosthavewhiplash,withhowfastmyheadturns.
Jaewoocasuallyleansagainstthecounter.Hehandsoveracreditcard.“I’mpayingyouback,”hesays,“forallthatfoodyouboughtmeinLA.”
“Oh,isthatwhat’shappening?”Isay,gladthatmyvoicecomesoutnormal,teasing,“ThenI’dliketovisitafewmorestalls.”
He’scome.He’shere
Andhelookssogood.He’swearingalight-bluebutton-upshirt,hishairsweptbackfromhisface,andslickaviators.
“Student,”thevendorsays,“yourcoffee?”
Iturntoaccept,blushingfuriously.
JaewooandIleavetheline,headinginthegeneraldirectionofthebuses.I’msuddenlyovercomewithafeelingofawkwardness.HowamIsupposedtoactaroundhim?Thelasttimewewerealone,wemadeoutforhalfanhouronaswingset.
Ofcourserightnowwe’renotexactlyalone.Ourclassmatesarewithinsight,mostchattingoutsidethereststop,afewrunningaroundinanefforttogettheirmusclesloosenedbeforewehavetogetbackonthebusforanothertwohours.
“So,”Isay,tryingtoactcasual.“You’regoingonthefieldtrip?”
Hedoesn’tappeartohavebroughtanythingwithhim,aduffelorabackpack.
“Yeah,Iwasworriedwewouldn’tmakeit.WejustflewbackfromJapanthismorning.”
“Doyoudo…promotionsinJapan…often?”
Acrygoesupbehindus.
Outsidetherestroom,IspotNathanielsurroundedbythegroupofJapanesetourists.Heappearsunfazed,throwinguppeacesignsandposingforselfies.
“Yeah,”Jaewooanswers.“Jenny.”Heturnstome,aslightsmileonhisface.“Iwantedtoaskyou—”
“Thereyouare.”Soripracticallybarrelsintome.“Iwaslookingalloverforyou.IwassureI’dfindyououtsideoneofthefoodstands.”
“Ha,veryfunny.”
“Oh,Jaewoo,”shesays,asifshe’djustnoticedhewasstandingrightnexttome.“Ididn’tthinkyou’dshowup.”
“Mymanagerdroppedmeoff.”
“That’snice.Well,JennyandIhavetobegettingontothebus.Seeya!”Shegrabsmyarmandpullsmeaway.
“Wait,”Istart.
“Actnatural.”Soripinchesmyarm.“Lookbehindmyleftshoulder,whatdoyousee?”
Ifollowhergazedespitebeingsuperannoyedwithher.Ihaven’tseenJaewooinafewweeks.You’dthinkshe’dletmehaveamomentalonewithhim.Whatwasheabouttoaskme?“IseeJaewoo.”
“OhmyGod,Jenny.Lookfarther.”Concentrating,IlookbeyondJaewootowhereJinaandherfriendsaregroupedtogetheroutsidethereststop.Jinahasherphoneoutandit’sangledinourdirection.
“Isshe…?”
“Shecouldbetakingphotos,Idon’tknow.Butyouhavetobemorecareful.”
Ifeelachillrundownmyback.TheideathatwhileJaewooandIweretalkingsomeonewaswatchingus,takingphotosofus,isdisturbing,especiallyifthepersonisJina,whoforsurehasonlymaliciousintentions.
“Doyouthinkshegotanyincriminatingphotos?”
“Idon’tthinkso.Youtwoweren’tstandingthatclose.PlusIwalkedintotheshot,andJinawouldn’tdarepostaphotowithmeinit.Shemighttargetmeatschool,butifshepostedapicture,mymotherwouldgetinvolved,and…evenJinadoesn’twanttopissofftheCEOofJoah.”
ItakeSori’sarm,squeezing.“I’msogladyou’reonmyteam,”Itellher.“You’relikemyaceinthehole,”Iadd,inEnglish.
“Ihavenoideawhatyou’resaying.SpeakKorean.”ButthensheaddsinhercuteaccentedEnglish,“But,yes,Iamace.”
Afewminuteslater,Jinaandherfriendsboardthebus,whisperingtoeachotherastheypassbyme,thenGiTaekandAngela,followedbyNathanielandJaewoo.Therestofourclassisalreadyonboard,andatthesightofthem,acheergoesup.Nathanielbows,andJaewoo’seyesscanthebus,asifinsearchofme.Isitlowerinmyseat.Canhebemoreobvious?Eventuallytheytakeseatsinthefrontrow,acrossfromourhomeroomteacher.
IwantedJaewootocomeonthisfieldtrip,butnowI’mnotsosure.IthoughtleavingSeoulwouldgiveusopportunitiestobetogether,butwithsomanyofourclassmatesjoiningus,Ithinkitmightmakethingshardertokeepwhateverwehaveasecret.
Still,thisismyfirsttimeoutsideofSeoul,myfirsttimeintheKoreancountryside,andsoonmyexcitementtakesoverandIpushmyworriestothebackofmymind.
Thelandscapechangesthefartherwetravelfromthecity.Beautifulswathesoffarmlandstretchforacresacrossahillyterrainbrokenupbytreesandcountrydirtroads.Farmersplantspringcropsinthefields,shadingtheireyeswiththeirglovedhandsastheypauseintheirworktowatchthetrainofbusesrumbleby.
Anhourandhalflaterwereachourdestination.AsignthatsaysNationalParksitsattheentranceofalargecampingground.
I’msurprisedtoseetenorsobusesarealreadyparkedoutsidethecampgrounds.It’snotjustSAAthathastheirannualfieldtripatthistimeandlocation,butotherhighschoolsaswell.
I’mslowtodisembark,mostlybecauseSoritakeshersweettimeandshe’sintheaisleseat.We’rethelastoffthebus,acceptingourduffelsfromthedriver,plusashirtfromoneoftheclassmonitors.Apparentlywe’resupposedtowearthemduringthetripsothatourchaperonescankeeptrackofusamongthemanyotherstudentspresent.Alreadykidsarestreamingthroughtheentrancetothecampinggrounds,whichisanaturereserveparkwithadozenorsobuildingsandnaturalandhistoricalsites.
AlargemapoutsidethegroundshasakeywithallthesiteslistedinKorean,Japanese,Chinese,andEnglish.Besidesthecabins,there’sarestaurant,amuseum,arecreationalfacility,aparkservicesbuilding,andacafé.There’salsoaconveniencestore,becausethisisKorea.
Themapalsofeaturesdrawingsofafewlandmarks.InthemiddleofthemapisabambooforestandatthetoprightcornerablueoblongshapewithcartoonreedsandfrogsismarkedwiththewordsPondofTranquility
“Let’sgotothecabin,”Sorisays.She’dbeenstudyingthemapalongsideme,probablyeyeingthehikingtrails.“Floorspaceislimited.Weneedtostakeourclaim.”
I’mnotexactlysurewhatshemeansuntilwe’restandingoutsideourassignedcabin,whichismoreaone-storyhousebuiltinthetraditionalKoreanstructure—orhanok—withawingedrooftopandslidingwood-paneledpaperdoors,thanthelogcabinsofmychildhood.
Similartohowourbuswasgrouped,ourhomeroomiscombinedwithAngelaandGiTaek’shomeroom,sothetwelvegirlsoftheirclassareroomingwiththetwelvegirlsofours.Whichmeanstwenty-fourgirlsonthefloorofasingle—albeitlong—room.
“Thishastobeafirehazard,”Isay.
Fromcabinetsonthewall,weeachpulloutabedrollandgoabout“stakingourclaim”tofloorspace.
Jinaandherfriendshavealreadytakenthespotsclosesttothedoor,presumablytomakeiteasierforthemtosneakoutatnight.
Soriontheotherhandbeelinesforthewindow.Unfortunatelyforher,sodoesanothergirl.Theyeyeeachotherbeforebothdivingforthesamespot.It’slikeanepisodeofAnimalKingdom.IwouldhaveteasedSoriifAngelaandIhadn’tjoinedinwhenwesawthegirl’sfriendsbackingherup.
Whenthedustsettles,Sori’sbythewindowwithmenexttoherandAngelahorizontalrightaboveourheads.Theothergirlsareatourfeet,wheretheybelongMuahaha.
“Jenny.”GiTaekcallsmeoverfromwherehe’sstandingbythedoorway.
Athisappearance,afewofthegirlsscreamandcovertheirchests,thoughwe’reliterallyallwearingthesameoutfitsweworeonthebus,withnoneofushavingchangedintoourT-shirtsyet.GiTaekjustrollshiseyes.
Iheadover.“What’sup?”
“Wehavetosignupforactivities.Wannacomewith?”
IlookovertowhereSoriisunpackingherduffelwithAngelaasanattentiveaudience,explainingeachitemasshepullsitout.
“Isthatahumidifier?”
“Don’task.”
IfollowGiTaekoutofthehanokintothesmallcourtyard,thenoutontoashort,dirtpath.Accordingtothemap,thestudentsareallstayingintheFolkVillage,whichisareplicaofhousesfromtheearlyJoseonperiod,separatedbylowstonewalls.
“Boysareknowntojumpthewallsatnighttovisittheirgirlfriends,”GiTaekexplains,likehe’satourguidetoKoreanhigh-schoollife.WhichIguesshekindofis.
TheFolkVillageisrightnexttothecentralareaofthecampwherethemuseumandtheparksservicesbuildingislocated,aswellastheconveniencestoreandafairlylargeoutdoorstage.
Themajorityofthestudentsarecongregatedhere,andnowIseewhywewereallgivenmatchingshirts.Ifitweren’tforthebright-redshirtsthatareprintedwithSAA,we’dlikelygetlostamidstthestudentsfromallthedifferenthighschools.
AgirlinaturquoiseandmagentashirtwalksbywithSPAHS,forSeoulPerformingArtsHighSchool,printedontheback.Anotherboy’sshirtreads:YongsanMusicSchool.Thethemeseemsprettystraightforward.
GiTaekleadsmetotheactivitytableandpicksupaclipboardwithasign-upsheet.Afterreadingit,hehandsitoverandIflipthroughthepages.Besidescheckinginwithourhomeroomteacheratnightandinthemorning,we’reprettymuchfreetodowhateverwefeellike.Afewoftheactivitieshaveacaponhowmanypeoplecango,likewhite-waterraftingandcaveexploring.Butothers,likeatwo-hourhiketoaBuddhisttemple,haveanunlimitednumberofspaces.
There’salsoasign-upsheetforatalentshow,whichwilltakeplaceduringtheonlymandatoryactivity,abarbecuedinnerforallofthevisitingschools.
GiTaekputshisnamedownonthesheetforthetalentshow,with“Dancing”beneaththetalentcategory.
“Whataboutyou?”heasks.“Anyactivitiescatchyoureye?”
“ThehiketotheBuddhisttempleseemsprettycool.”
IhandGiTaekbackthesheet.Ashe’sbrowsing,Iletmygazeroammysurroundings.Mostoftheactivitiesdon’tstartforanotherhour,somostofthestudentsareeitherunpackingintheircabinsorheadingoutingroupstoexplorethenearbysites.
Outsidetheconveniencestore,IspotJaewoostandingwithNathanielandafewotherboysfromourclass.
IglancearoundbutwhenIdon’tseeanysignofJina,Istartwalkinginhisdirection.I’lljustaskhimwhatactivityheplannedonjoining.That’scasualenough,right?
Ialmostmakeitbeforetwogirlsdartinfrontofme.They’refromanotherschool,theirT-shirtsaflatteringmidnight-bluecolor.
“Oppa!”onesays,andInarrowmyeyes.Idoubtsheknowshimwellenoughtocallhimoppa,afamiliartermtoaddressoldermalerelativesorfriends.“WhenIfoundoutSAAwouldbeonthisfieldtrip,”shecontinues,“Iwassoexcited.I’msuchabigfanofyours.I’mamemberoftheKissandHugClub.”
Allmyannoyanceandjealousydeflates.
She’safan.
AndIwasabouttodosomethingembarrassing,liketellinghertobackoff.
“Thankyou,”hesays,thensmiles.
Icanpracticallysensethegirl’sheartstop,onlytostartbeatingagain,faster,becauseI’vefeltthatsameway,whenhe’sgivenmethatverysamesmile.
Islowlybackup,thenturnaround,sighingheavily.WhatifIgothiswholefieldtripandtheonlytimeItalktoJaewooisatthereststop?
“Jenny?”
Iturn.
Aboystandsbehindme.AtfirstIdon’timmediatelyplacehisface.ThenIremember.Ian.ImethimthefirstmorningIeverspentinSeoul.Hegavemehisphonenumber,butwithschoolandJaewoo,Inevergotaroundtotextinghim.
Whatishedoinghere?Twenty-Seven
“Ian,hi,”Isay,feelingatalittlelossforwords.Likeafewofthestudents,he’sdressedinabright-blueshirt.Unlikethestudentshowever,healsowearsaredarmband.
Noticingthedirectionofmygaze,heexplains,“I’maYongsanMusicSchoolalumsotheyaskedifI’djoinasagroupleader,apaidgig.Gottagetthatcash.”
Iremembernow.He’stakingthesemesterofftosaveupmoneybeforereturningtocollegeattheManhattanSchoolofMusic.
“Howareyou?”heasks.“GettingusedtothelifeofaKoreanhigh-schoolstudent?”
“Yeah.”Ilookaround.“Thisfieldtripisprettycool.”
“Theyswitchupthelocationseveryyear,”hesays.“WhenIwasinmythirdyear,wedidanovernightstayatthishugeBuddhistmonasticcompoundinthemountains.Alotofprayingandvegetarianfood.”
“Isn’tthereatemplehere?”Iask.“Isawitonthesign-upsheet.”
“Yeah,sortof.There’sashrinetothelocalmountaindeityorsansin.Theparkpaysforitsupkeep.”
“Oh,cool.”BesidesKoreanschoolinthebasementoftheKoreanchurch,Ihaven’tbeentoanysortofspiritualplacesincemiddleschool.It’dbefuntoseetheshrine.
“There’salsoalovestoryattachedtotheshrine.Apparentlyduring,like,theGoryeoperiod,twoloversfromrivalfamiliesmadethetrektopraytotheshrine,thenafterward,disappearedintothesemountainsandwereneverseenagain.”
Igrimace.“That’sbleak.”
“Yeah,well,Koreansloveatragicstory.Haven’tyoufiguredthatoutbynow?”
Ilaugh.
“So,like,”hecontinues,“attheshrine,youcanpraytothesansinforgeneralblessings,butmostpeoplewhovisittheshrineaskforsomethingmorespecific.”Hewaits,obviouslydrawingoutthestoryforeffect.
“Likewhat?”
“Love.It’safamoussiteforloversbecauseit’srumoredthatthecoupleactuallysurvivedandlivedouttheirlivessomewhere,together,protectedbythesansin.”Hegrins.“Asyoucanimagine,it’saprettypopularspotwithstudents.”
Koreansloveatragicstory,butwhatweloveevenmoreisahopefulone.
Hekicksastoneanditskittersafewfeetbeforedisappearingintoapatchofgrass.“Wecouldgo,ifyouwant.”
Iblink,thenblinkagain.
Idon’tknowhowtoreact.Idon’tknowhowtofeel.Imean,IknowhowIfeel.Flatteredthatheaskedme,butalsoalittlebitguilty.HemustthinkI’msingle.Imean,JaewooandInevertalkedaboutourrelationshipstatusafterthekiss,but…
“Jaewoo-seonbae!”someoneyellsfromclosebehindme.I’mtemptedtoturn,thenIrecallwhyIwaswalkingawayinthefirstplace,sothatIdon’tdrawattentiontoJaewooandmyself.
“Jenny?”Ianfrowns.
“Sorry.Yes.Imean,Iwasthinkingofsigningupforthatactivityanyway,sortoflikeacounterbalancetospendingallthosehoursonthebus.Don’tyouhave…uh…priorobligations,likewithyourjob?”
“Wehaven’tbeenassignedactivities.I’llrequestthatone.I’msureI’llgetit.Theotherchaperonesareteachers,andnotalotofthemwanttogoclimbinginthemountains.”
“Okay,”Isay.Whenhecontinuestostareatme,waitingformore,Iadd,“I’llsignupforthatone.”
“Awesome.Seeyouinanhour!”Hewaves,thenheadsoffinthedirectionoftheparkservicesbuilding.
“Who’stheguy?He’scute.”Inearlyjumpoutofmysneakers.Sori’ssidleduptome,hercateyeszeroingonIan’sdeparture.
“Anolderman,Jenny?”GiTaek’salsoappeared,givinghisbestimpressionofasmarmysneer,wigglinghiseyebrows.
“Hisname’sIan.ImethimatacafémyfirstdayinSeoul.”
“You’relikeacuteboymagnet,”GiTaeksays,thenpauses.“Thecutestboy,ofcourse,beingme.”
Angelagiggles,havingwalkedoverwithSori.
“Yo,JennyGo!”Nathanielpracticallytacklesme.IturntoseeifJaewoowalkedoverwithhim,buthe’sstillstandingwiththegirlsfromearlier,exceptnowtherearetwomoregirlsandaboy.
“Didyouchooseyouractivityfortheday?”Nathanielasks.“Iwasthinkingofdoingsomewhite-waterrafting.There’snothinglikethethrillofdrowningtocompleteaschoolbondingexperience.”
Isigh.“Iwasthinkingofhiking.”
“I’lljoinyou,”Sorisays.
Nathaniel’seyesdarttowardher,asmallfrownonhisface,butthenquicklylockontoGiTaekandAngela.“Well,whataboutyoutwo?Don’tletmedown!”
“It’snotexactlymystyle,”GiTaeksays,“butIguessIcangiveitatry.”
“That’sthespirit!”
“Ididpackaswimsuit,”Angelasays,thenglancesatSoriandme,herexpressionguilty.
“Don’tmindus,”Sorisays,hervoicesoothing.“We’llseeeachotheratthebarbecue.”
NathanielnarrowshiseyesatAngela,clearlyjealousthatSoriisbeingsonicetoAngelawhenshe’salwayssosnarkyto…well,everyoneelse.IfAngeladoesn’twatchout,shemightfindherselftreadingwaterduringthisraftingtrip.
“WhataboutJaewoo?”Soriaskscasually.
“Dunno,”Nathanielsays.“He’llprobablysignupforwhateverhisfanswant.He’sasucker.”
“Whereareyourfans?”GiTaekdrawls.
Nathanieldoesn’tmissabeat.“Accordingtoonlinepolls,I’mmorepopularwithforeigners.Maybeit’smysexappealandspiritofspontaneity.”
Sorirollshereyes.
“You’reprobablyjusttooannoyingforKoreans,”GiTaeksayslaughing.
Anhourlater,SoriandIarestandingbesidetheentrancetothehikingpath.Awoodensignstakedintothegroundreads:“TrailtoSansin.”IstareenviouslyatSori’shikingbootsandawindbreaker,whichshepulledfromherseeminglybottomlessbagofoutfits,asIhugmyLACHSAzip-uphoodiealittletighter.Itmaybeschool-disloyal,butatleastit’swarm.
“Attention,everyone!”Ianwalksover,havingchangedintoaloosejacketovershortsandcarryingalargebackpack.“Letmeintroducemyself.Myname’sIan.I’mthegroupleaderforthisactivity.We’llspendaboutforty-fiveminuteswalkingtotheshrine,thirtyminutesthere,andaboutthirtyminuteswalkingbackdownhill.Ifatanytime,anyonefeelslight-headedordizzy,pleaseletmeknow.Ihaveextrawaterbottles,energybars,andbananas.Ialsohavethis.”Heholdsupawalkie-talkie.“Wecangetacartupheretotakeyoutomedical.Anyquestions?No?Then,lets—”
“Wait!”Twogirlsrushupthepathfromthecampsite,oneithersideof.
Jaewoo!Myheartswells.He’schangedfromtheloosebutton-uptotheSAAT-shirt,whichhewearsbeneathhisownwindbreaker.ThegirlsIrecognizeaspartofthegroupthatwasstandingwithhimearlier.
“Okay,nowIthinkthateveryone’s,”Iansays.“Let’smoveout!”
IwonderifNathanieltoldhimwhatactivityI’dsignedupfor,andthat’swhyhedecidedtojointhisone.
Thestudentsstarttobreakintotwosandthreestoaccommodateforthenarrowtrail.ImmediatelyaboyfromanotherclassengagesSoriinconversation,whileevenmoregirlsencircleJaewoo.
Resentmentcurdlesinmychest.Evenifheishere,it’snotlikeIcanwalkuptohim.
“Jenny.”IdragmygazeawayfromJaewootowhereIan’shungbacktowaitforme.Resignedtomyfate,Ijoinhim.“So,”Iansays,aswestartupthetrail.“IcheckedmymessagesandnoticedInevergotatextfromyou.”
That’sanoddwayofputtingit,asifhehadthoughtItextedhim.Howmanygirlsdoeshegivehisphonenumberoutto?
“Sorry,schoolstarted,andI…”—forgot,really—“wantedtoconcentrateonmymusic.”
“Oh,yeah,”hesays,“SAAhasashowcaseattheendofthesemester,right?IknowakidwhowasacceptedintoMSMimmediatelyfollowinghisperformance.Like,therepintheaudiencecameuptohimandgavehimaverbalacceptance.”
“Seriously?Wow,”Isay.“That’samazing.”Mypulsequickensatthethought.
ThoughIfeelasmidgenofworry.Ihaven’tbeenconcentratingonmymusic,notreally,nottotheextentthatIhadinLA.I’vebeendistractedwithschool,andmyfriends,and,well,Jaewoo.ButIresolvenowthatoncewereturntocampus,I’llstepupmygame,signupformorepracticetime,andmaybescheduleavideosessionwithEunbi.
“Ian-ssi?”Agirlcallsovertohimfromwheresheandherfriendsarelookingoveraridge.“Whatkindofplantisthat?”
“IguessIshouldgodomyjob,”Iansays,leavingmysidetoanswerthegirl.
Aswemakeourwayupthemountainthehikebecomesabitmorearduous,thepathtakingusupasharpinclineandovergrassyboulders,andonceacrossabustlingstream,silverfishslippingoverrocksthatsparklebeneaththeafternoonsun.Pastthestreamisadenseforest,thepathhardertomakeoutagainsttheleaf-strewnground,overgrownwithmossandtherootsoftrees.
I’mupfront,walkingbesideSori,whenthepathwe’dbeenheadinguplevelsoff,andthereitis,asmallshrine.
It’stuckedagainstthesideofamountain,anelegantwoodenstructure,smallinstature,paintedpredominantlygreenandred,withasingleroomandagentle,slopingroof.
Forhowdeepitisinthemountains,theshrineanditssurroundingareaiswell-kept,theclearingsweptofdebrisandallofthefeaturesofthebuilding—thewoodandpaperdoors,thelittlestonedecorativefiguresontherooftop—areintact.There’seventhesubtlesmellofincenseemanatingfromwithintheshrine,asifavisitingmonkhadonlyjustleft.
Everyoneeitherrushesofftoexplorethearea,takingselfieswiththefewstonestatuesthatstandsentinelaroundtheclearing,orcollapsesontothegroundoutofsheerexhaustionfromthelastlegofthehike.
“Ihavetousethebathroom,”SorioftheSmallBladdersaysasshemakesherwaytowardatinybuildingattheedgesoftheclearing.IlookaroundforJaewoo,butIdon’tspothimanywhere.Thegirlswho’dbeenwithhimearlierarealsolookingaround,browsfurrowed.
Ianstandsbytheshrine,callingoutinstructions.“Let’skeepthenumberofpeopleintheshrinetotwotothreepeopleatatime,fouratthemost.”Hethenstartstoturninmydirection.
Inasortofpanic,Isprintbehindtheclosestbuilding.Crouchingdown,IglancearoundthecornertoseeIanapproaching.OhmyGod,Ifeelridiculous.AmIreallyhidingfromhim?Stillcrouched,Istarttobackupandbumpintosomeone.
“Hey,watchit.”
Itwistaroundandalmostfallover.“Jaewoo!”Ihiss.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Ithink…”hesaysslowly,“I’mdoingexactlywhatyou’redoing.”
Fromtheothersideoftheshrine,Icanhearthegirlsshouting.“Jaewoo!Jaewoo-oppa!Whereareyou?”
Foramomentwejuststareateachother,acknowledgingthesituation,bothofuscroucheddownbehindamountainshrinewhilehidingfrompeoplewhowantourattention.Itrytosuppressagiggle,butsoonfindmyselfholdingmyhandsovermymouthtostiflethem.Jaewoo’snobetter,hisentirebodyshakingwithsilentlaughter.
“Thisisjustlikethephotobooth,”Isay.“Whydowekeeponendingupinthesesituations?”
“Idon’tknow,”hesays,wipingthetearsfromhiseyes.
Iletoutasnortandheholdsafingertohismouth.“Shh,Jenny!”
“Ican’thelpit!”
Jaewoosmiles,clearlyamused.
“Jenny!”Ian’svoiceisclosenow,movingaroundthesideoftheshrine.
“Jaewoo!”Thegirlsareontheotherside.
Curlinghisfingersovermywrist,Jaewoopullsmyhandawayfrommymouth.HiseyesdroptomylipsandIhaveasuddenrealizationwhathe’sabouttodo.
Myeyeswiden.“They’llsee—”
Hekissesme,hardandfast.Thenhe’sgone,roundingthesideoftheshrine
“Jenny?”avoicesaysfrombehindme.Ialmostlosemybalance.“Whatareyoudoing?”
IgetupfrommycrouchandturntofaceIan.“N-Nothing,Ijust…thoughtIsawafox….”
Ianstaresatmeindisbelief.“Wehavetoleavebeforeitgetsdark.Youbetterhavealookattheshrinenowifyou’restillinterested.”
Ianmusthavehadenoughofmebecausehedoesn’tfollowmeintotheshrine.I’monlyinsideaquickfewseconds,butitleavesalastingimpression.Theafternoonlightfiltersthroughthedoor,illuminatingthefarwallwhereapaintingdepictsanoldmanwithalongwhitebeard,presumablythesansin,sittingonamountainbeneathatreeandsurroundedbytigers.
Ithrowaquickprayerthesansin’swaybeforerunningdownthepathtomeettheothers.Twenty-Eight
It’sduskbythetimewearriveatthecenterofcampandservicestaffarewheelingoutlargegrillsforthebarbecue.Sinceitdoesn’tstartforanotherhalfhour,weseparate,headingofftoourrespectivehouses.ItrynottofeelresentfulofmyshorttimewithJaewoo,especiallywhenNathanielentersthecampatthesametimeasus,soakingwet,havingapparentlyreturnedfromwhite-waterrafting,tacklesJaewooinahug,andtheygoofflaughingtogether.
Backatourhouse,adistinctlydry-lookingAngelaissittingontheblankets,layingouttwodresses.
“It’slikeyouandNathanielparticipatedintwoentirelydifferentactivities,”Isay.
“Mostofusdidn’tgetwet,”Angelasays,decidingontheyellowdress,“besidesafewsplasheshereandthere.Nathanieljustfelloverboard.”
Angelawantstotakeanap,soSoriandIwalkovertothecommunalshowersandquicklywashup,thenheadbacktoourhousetouseSori’shairdryer,whichI’mrealizingwasactuallybrilliantofhertobring.Theothergirlsasktoborrowitafterus,evenbargainingwithotheritemsthey’vebroughtfromSeoul—sheetmasks,blisterBand-Aids,mosquitorepellant.EvenJinaaskstoborrowit.IexpectawesomelevelsofpettyfromSoributshehandsthehairdryeroverwithoutablink.
Imustlooksurprisedbecauseshesays,“Keepyourfriendscloseandyourenemiescloser”inEnglish.
IputononeofthedressesIbroughtfromhome.ThenIborrowmosquitorepellentfromoneofourclassmatesandspraymybarelegssoIsmellkindoflikemedicinaloranges.
Afterward,SoriwantstodoAngela’smakeup,soafterapplyingeyelinerandtinttomylips,Iheadouttoexplorethefolkvillageabitmore.Iglancethroughdoorwaysintocourtyardsthatarealotliketheoneassignedtoourclass,boysandgirlssittingonplatformschattingandpracticingtheiractsforthetalentshow.
I’mwalkingbyahanokatthebackofthevillagewhenIhearafamiliarshout.IglancethroughthedoorwaytoseeNathanielandafewboysfromourclasskickingaballaround.
They’reallshirtless.
Nathaniel’sthefirsttospotme.“Boys!”heshouts.“Wehaveanaudience!Coveryourselves.”
Theyallstarttoyellandrunaroundincircles.
“Likeshewantstoseethat.”IhearJaewoobeforeIseehim,appearingfromtheside.He’szippinguphiswindbreakerbutnotbeforeIcatchaglimpseofhistonedstomachandchest.
“Wait,”Isay,pretendingtopushhimasidewhenheblocksmyview.“Ihaven’tseeneverythingIwantedtoyet.”
Hescowls.“Everythingyouneedtoseeisrightinfrontofyou.”
Ileanback,givinghimaslowonce-over.Hedoesn’tbreakasweat.Heknowshelooksgood.Well,Idon’tlookhalfbadmyself.Iflickmyhairovermyshoulderandwatchashiseyesfollowthemovement.
“Aren’tyougoingtodinner?”Iask.
“Soon,”hesays,thoughhisattentionseemstohaveshifted.Slowlyhereachesoutahand.Igostill,heartracing,ashebrushesastrandofhairfrommyface.
“Jaewoo?”oneoftheboyscallsoutbehindhim.
Hestepsback.“Savemeaseat?”Thenhe’sturningbackintothecourtyard
“WhatwereyoudoingwithJenny?”Ioverhearthesameboyask,curious.
“Shewasjustlettingusknowdinner’sabouttostart,”hesays,casually.
Iwalkaway,touchingmyfacewhereJaewoo’sfingershadbrushedmyhair,mystomachallaflutter.I’moncloudnineasIroundacorner.
“Atleastitmakessensenow,whyyounevertextedme.”Ijerkmyheadaround.Ian’sleaningagainstthewall.“Imean,Igetit.WhybotherwithanobodywhenyoucouldbewithaK-popstar?”
There’sasmileonhisface,buthiswordshaveacoldedgetothem.
“So,”hesays,“whatareyou,like,asuperXOXOfan?”Helaughs.
“What’swrongwiththat?”Iask.
Hissmiledrops,“Jenny,areyouserious?YousaidyouwantedtogototheManhattanSchoolofMusic.”
“Ido.And?”
“Theyonlyacceptthebest,peoplewhoareseriousabouttheirmusic,andnowyou’resayingyou’reanXOXOfan?”
“Wow,”Icuthimoff,“Ididn’ttakeyouforamusicsnob.”
Hescoffs,“It’snotbeingamusicsnob.It’shavingtaste.”
“Isthisevenaboutmusic?”Iask,channelingSoriathermostbiting.“Itsoundslikeyou’rejustupsetthatI’mnotintoyou.”
HeflinchesandIdon’tcare.He’sajudgmentaljerk.
“Whatever,Jenny,”hesays.“Havefunwastingyourtimeonafantasy.”
Withthatheleaves,takingthelastwordwithhim.I’msomad,butIrefusetolethimruinmynight.
“Where’dyougo?”SoriaskswhenIjoinherandAngelainthelineforbarbecue.She’slookinggorgeous,asusual,inasilkysheathdress.
“Nowhere,”Ianswer.“What’sfordinner?Itsmellsgood.”Ipeekupaheadtoseecooksstandingbehindthegrillsastheyturnoverstripsofgalbi—marinatedshortribs—aswellaspork,andchicken,plusavarietyofgrilledvegetables.Onthesideisabanchanstation,andbesidethat,hugeindustrial-sizedricecookers.
SorilookslikeshewantstoaskmemorequestionsbutthenGiTaekappears,lookingchicinblack.HemustnothavebeeninthecourtyardwithNathanielandJaewoo,otherwisehewouldhavecomewiththem.Afewofthestudentsbehindusgrumble,butdon’tprotestasecondpersoncuttinginline.
“Howwaswhite-waterrafting?”Soriasks.
“Adisaster.”GiTaekshudders.“RemindmenevertogonearabodyofwaterwithNathanieleveragain.Whataboutyoutwo?”
“OurtourguideflirtedwithJennythewholetime.”
“Nice.”
“We’renottalkingabouthim,”Isaysharply.Okay,somaybeIwillsaysomething.
IrelaymyconversationwithIan,howhesaidXOXO’smusicwasn’t“real”music,andhowIcan’tbeaseriousmusicianifIlikethem.
“Heshouldannouncethattothiscrowd,”Angelasays,noddingtoindicatethehundredsofstudentsfromallthedifferentmusicschools,manyofwhomaretraineesoraspiringidols.“Hewon’tgetfarwithhislimbsintact.”
“Vicious,Angela,”GiTaeksays.“Iapprove.”
AthoughtstrikesmeandIfeeltheblooddrainfrommyface.“Sori.”Igrabherhand.“Doyouthinkhe’llsaysomething?AboutJaewooandme?”
Ithinkbacktoearlier.Whatdidhewitnessanyway?Abitofflirting,butitcouldjustbeone-sidedonmypart.Itcan’tbeascandalifit’sone-sided,right?
“You’refine,Jenny,”Sorireassuresme.“Ian’sjustaflirtwhodidn’tgetthegirlforonce.Ifhedoesn’tthinkK-popisrealmusichewouldn’tcareaboutthelifeofidolseither.”
Islumpinrelief,trustingSori’sjudgment.
“WhywouldhesayanythingaboutJaewooandyou?”GiTaekasks.
Whoops.GiTaek’seyesnarrow.
“Becausewe”—Ibracefortheirreactions—“sortofhaveathing.”
“Jenny!”bothAngelaandGiTaekshout.
Theirvoicescarryandafewpeopleturntostareatus.
Loweringhishead,GiTaekhiss-whispers,“How?Why?Who?”
“What?!”Angelaadds.
“Jaewooconfessed.”Isay,thencovermyfacewithmyhandsbecauseit’sembarrassing.
“What?!”GiTaekyells.
“That’swhatIsaid!”Angelagrins.
“I’lltaketwoofthose,please,”Sorisays.
Ilowermyhandsfrommyfaceandwealllookather.She’spointingtothesizzlinggalbionthegrill.Apparentlywe’vereachedthefrontoftheline.Thecookpicksuptwopiecesofgalbiwithhertongsandplacesitonapaperplate,thenhandsittoSori.
Sheglancesovertofindusallwatchingher.“What?”
Wesuspenddiscussiontochoosewhatmeatsandvegetableswewantfromthegrill,thenmovetothestandofsidedishestofillourplateswithkimchi,greensalad,braisedpotatoes,seasonedsoybeansprouts,andspicycucumbersalad.
Angelamanagestofindusanemptypicnictable.IthoughtI’dhaveabriefrespitetoenjoymymeal,butIunderestimatedGiTaek.
“Whatdoes‘athing’entail?Likehand-holding?Furtherthanthat?Hugs,kisses?Whatkindofkisses?Wastheretongue?”
“Stop!”Angelacovershereyes.
“Yourears,Angela,”Sorisays.“Coveryourears.”Shepicksupasliceofcucumberwithherchopsticksandpopsitintohermouth,thenuseshersamechopstickstopointtotheedgeofcamp.“Oh,look.Loverboy.”
WeallfollowhergazetowhereJaewoostandswithNathaniel,havingjustarrived.They’rebothdressednow,inhoodiesandsweats.
Iwaitforoneorallofmyfriendstostartteasingmerelentlessly,buttheyimmediatelyactsupercool.Sorilowersherchopsticks,GiTaekputssomeofhisfoodontoAngela’splate,andAngelastuffsapileofriceinhermouth.
Myheartfillsingratitudeandamusement.Notteasingmeistheirformofencouragingme.
Acrossthecampsite,Nathanielmeetsmygaze.HesayssomethingtoJaewoowholooksinmydirection.Asmilespreadsacrosshisface,warmanddazzling.
“Heol,”GiTaeksaysinamazement.
“Howcanyounotfallinlove?”Angelasighsdreamily.“Whenhelooksatyoulikethat?”
Love?Thewordmakesmyhearttumbleinmychest.Thatcan’tbewhatI’mfeeling.Notyet.
NathanielandJaewoogettheirplatesoffood.Onthewaytoourtable,however,acoupleoffansinterceptthem,andbythetimetheyarrive,they’reaccompaniedbyawholegroupofthem.We’requicktomakeroomforeveryone,andthoughIwishIcouldspendtimewithJaewooalone,totalkandflirtwithhim,I’malsohappytobehere,surroundedbyourfriends,andthepeoplewhocareabouthim.ItjustgoestoshowhowwrongIanis.Eachpersonhereisamusician,andtheirloveofXOXOisrealand,honestly,special.
ThegirlsittingnexttomelovesJaewooinparticularbecausehewrotethesongthatshelistenedtooverandoveragainwhenherbrotherpassedaway.I’msomovedbyherthatIsharehowmusicalsohelpedmegetthroughmygrief.Weexchangenumberstokeepincontactafterthefieldtripisover.
Halfwaythroughdinner,there’sacollectivemurmuringinthecrowdaseveryoneturnstheirattentiontowhereaboyandgirlincolor-coordinatedoutfitswalkontothestage.
“I’mSungMinwoo,”theboysays,“aSecondYearfromSeoulArtsAcademy.”
“AndI’mLeeYuri,”thegirlsays,“aSecondYearfromYongsanMusicSchool.”
“We’reyourMCsfortonight’stalentshow!”theysayinunison.
Anenthusiasticcheereruptsfromthetables.
“We’vetakenthenamesonthesign-upsheet,cutthemallout,andputtheminthishat!”
Thegirlholdsupabuckethat.“We’llbecallingactsatrandom,sogetready!”
“Where’dGiTaekgo?”Angelaaskssuddenly.
“Nathaniel’sgonetoo,”Sorisays,thoughwithsuspicion.
Onthestage,thegirlpullsaslipfromthehat.“Firstupwehaveaduo…Drumrollplease.”Theboytapstherhythmonhisleg.“YearThreestudentsfromSAA!HongGiTaekandLeeNathaniel!”
Angelascreamsandstandsuponthebench.Sorigroansandplacesahandoverherface,thoughshedoesshiftslightlyinthedirectionofthestage.
Fast-tempomusicbegins,blastingfromspeakersoneithersideofthestage.NathanielandGiTaekrunoutandimmediatelystarttodanceinperfectsynchronization,rollingtheirbodiesandmovinginstepwitheachother.
I’menthralled,andhonestly,superimpressed.Whendidtheyhavetimetopractice?ThetrackswitchestoXOXO’s“Don’tLookBack,”andthecrowdgoeswild.
Theyperformawholemedleyofsongsastheyswitchfromonesongtoanotherandanother.Theyeventhrowinafewclassics,likeBTS’s“BloodSweat&Tears”andSNSD’s“Gee,”whicharehugehitswiththecrowd,everyoneknowingtheiconicmoves.EventhoughI’mnotfamiliarwithsomeofthesongs,IstillenjoymyselfimmenselyandfeelparticularlyproudwhenIrecognizeafewfromwhenUncleJayplaysK-popatthekaraokebar.
Idon’tknowwhatcouldtopaperformancelikethat,butthenextpersonpulledfromthehatisanoperasingerwhobeltsoutanepicpowerballadthathaspeoplestandingontheirfeetcheering.Therestofthenightisarosterofamazingtalent,ofsingers,musicians,anddancers.Ifthisisapreviewoftheend-of-the-yearshowcase,it’sgoingtobeincredible.
Towardtheendofthenight,IglanceuptofindJaewootryingtocatchmyattention.We’resittingonoppositesidesofthetablewithseveralpeoplebetweenus.Everyone’schattingsoIcan’thearhim,thoughIcanseehislipsmoving.
Ishakemyhead,laughing.“Ican’thearyou,”Imouth.
“JooJini?”TheboyMCcallsthefinalnameinthehat.
“JooJini-ssi?”thegirlrepeats.
Theylifttheirhandsovertheireyes,peeringintothecrowd.
“Didyougotobedalready?”thegirlsing-songs.
Whennooneapproachesthestage,theylookateachother,thenshrug.“Well,that’sabitofaletdown,”theboysays.“Wehavetimeforonemoreperformanceifanyonewantstocloseoutthenight?Anyone?Comeon,friends.Don’tbeshy.”
Jaewoomouthsmorewordsatme,butIreallycan’thearhim.
Hestands.
“Ah!”theboyMCexclaims.“Wehaveasurprisevolunteer!”
“Ourlastperformerneedsnointroduction,”thegirlsays.“It’sSAA’sveryownBaeJaewoo!”
Jaewoolookstowardthestage,hisexpressiononeofsurprise.Thecrowdlaughsandthenstartschantinghisname.“BaeJaewoo!BaeJaewoo!”
Whenhestartsmovingtowardthestage,acheergoesup.Onhisway,someonehandshimaguitar.Andbythetimehe’sonstage,theMCshavesetupastoolandmic.
Thestudentsquietashesitsdown,playingtheopeningchordofasong.Thenittransitionsintothemelodyofthefirstverse,andmyheartgoesstillbecauseit’sthesong,theonefromthekaraokebar.
“Gohae.”
“Confession.”
“HowcanItellherthewordsIwanttosay?”Jaewoocroons,hissweettenordriftingoverthecampgrounds.
“Whentheworldisagainstme,howcanItellher?”
Dressedinahoodie,hedoesn’tlooklikethemegaK-popstarthatheis,butevenso,hisstarpowerisundeniable;it’sinhisrawtalent,hisimpassionedvoice.
Hesingswithsuchsincerityandvulnerability,asifhemeanseverysingleword.
Lookingaroundatthecrowd,everyoneisspellbound,someevenmouthingthelyricsalongwithhim,theirbodiesswaying.Thisiswhathedoes,andwhatmakeshimsuchagoodmusician.Hebringsjoytopeople;heinspiresthem.
Heinspiresme.HemakesmebelieveIcanhaveitall.Icanhaveasolointheshowcase.Icanhavefriendswhowillsupportmeandloveme.Icanhavehim.
Themusicrisestoacrescendoleadingintothepeakoftheballad,thefinalchorus,hisvoicefullandstrong,ashesings,“Tellher,tellher,thewordsthatIwanttosay,myconfession.Iloveher.”Twenty-Nine
Attenthirty,oneofthefemaleteacherschecksinonthegirlstomakesurewe’reallaccountedfor,thenleavesthecourtyard,closingthedoorsbehindher.Ateleventhere’saloudthumpbythewallandweallhurryoutsidetofindNathanielontheground,rubbinghisbackside.ThenGiTaekandtherestoftheboysfromourclassclimbover.Jaewoo’slast,apparentlyhavingdrawntheshortstrawforlookoutduty.Whiletheothersscrambleintothehouse,Iwaitforhim,watchingashenimblyleapsover,landingonhisfeet.Catchingsightofme,hepullsmeclose.
Iwrapmyarmsaroundhim,leaningbacksothatIcanlookintohisface.“Earliertonight,atthetable,youweretryingtogetmyattention.”Henods,reachingouttopullaleaffrommyhair.“Wasitthesamethingyouwantedtotellmeearlier,atthereststop?”
“Yeah,Iwantedtoaskifwecouldtalk.Inprivate.”
Amuffledshoutandlaughtercomefromthehanok.
“Ithinkthisisasprivateaswe’regoingtoget.”
Hesmiles,lookingintomyeyes.“Iwantedtoaskyouifyou’dbemygirlfriend.”
Myheartswells.Thisfeelsmomentous.I’veneverbeenanyone’sgirlfriendbefore.Andit’sJaewoo,theboyI’vepracticallybeenobsessedwithsinceIfirstmethimatmyuncle’skaraokebar.IknowthatsinceI’meventuallygoingbacktoAmerica,there’sanexpirationdateonourrelationship.Andthateveniftherewasn’t,he’sanidol.Hisstarisgoingtorisehigherandhigher.Butstill,Iwanttobewithhimhereandnow.
“Yes,”Isay,andsealitwithakiss.
Inthehanok,GiTaekandAngelaareunearthingthesnacksthey’dboughtatthereststop,dumpingbagsofchips,cookies,trianglegimbap,packagedsausagesonsticks,teas,sodas,andenergydrinks.Afterallthattroubleclaimingfloorspaceearlier,ourpalletsarehaphazardlypushedagainstthewallsanddoors
Everyonesitsaroundinacircleandchoosestheirfoodfromthepile.JaewooandIsittogether,withourkneestouching.Atonepointhegrabsablanketfromoneofthebunchedpalletsandputsitoverus,withmostofitonmylapandtherestonhis.Weholdhandsbeneaththeblanket.IthinkI’mbeingsneaky,butIcatchSori’seyeandshesmilesbeforelookingaway.
It’soneofthebestnightsofmylife.WeplayKorean“drinking”gamesthatI’dneverheardof,letaloneplayed.Inonegame,wehavetopassaplayingcardaroundwithjustourmouths.Ifyoudropthecard,youhavetotakeashotofanenergydrink.It’sfunandridiculousandIdon’tdropthecard,thoughJaewoodoes,justonce,ourlipsbrushing.
EveryonejeersandteasesJaewooashetakestheshot,butIremainseated,myfacebrightred,mylipstinglingfromhisinadvertentkiss.
Atsixinthemorning,theboysclimbbackoverthewall,sothatthey’llbeintheirhouseintimeto“wakeup”inahalfhour.Itseemsthatwe’renottheonlyoneswho’vehadanactivenightasmostofthestudentsatbreakfastarebleary-eyedandnon-talkative.AfterwardJaewoo,Nathaniel,Sori,GiTaek,Angela,andIallsignupforawalkonthenaturetrail,whichreallyisjustanexcuseforustofindasecludedfieldandtakeanapinapile.
Withourclassmatestootiredfromthenightbeforetotakemuchofaninterestinanythingbesidessleep,JaewooandIdecidetorisksittingtogetheronthebusridebacktoSeoul.SoribulliesAngelaintosittingnexttoher,whichleavesGiTaekwithNathaniel.TheygabthewholewaybacktoSAAintheseatsdirectlybehindJaewooandme.Butwedon’tmind,spendingmostofthebusrideslouchedlowandwatchingvideosonmyphonewhilesharingearbuds.
Whenwereachtheacademy,Jaewoomouths,“I’llcontactyou,”beforeheadingovertoXOXO’swaitingmanagerwithNathanielandYoungmin,whospentthemajorityofthefieldtripswimminginthelake.Idon’texactlyknowhowhe’llcontactme,sinceasfarasIknowhisphoneisstillbeingmonitored,butItrustthathe’llfigureoutaway.
AfterspendingsomanyhourswithJaewoo,Ifeelbereft.Sorihastostrongarmmeintogoingbacktothedorms,wheresheinsistswetake“propershowers.”Unfortunately,mostoftheothergirlshavethesameidea.
“Irefusetogotosleepwithoutbathing,”Sorisayseyeingthelineofgirlssnakingallthewaytothestairwell,andtextsAngela.Wemeetupwithheroutsidethedorms(she’sonthesecondfloor),thenheadovertothestreetwhereSorimotionsforacab.
“Wherearewegoing?”Iask.
“Bathhouse,”Sorireplies.
WhiletherearebathhousesinLA,I’venevergonetoonesoI’mnotentirelysurewhattoexpect.ButIquicklygetintothefunofitasSori,Angela,andIstripnakedandtaketurnsscrubbingeachother’sbacksinaspasetting,completewithshowersandmultiplebathingpools.Afterward,weheadovertoacommunalloungearea,dressedinoversizedpajama-likeclothingprovidedbythebathhouse.Wegetcoldnoodlesintherestaurantandcucumbersheetmasksfromthesmallstore,placingthemonourfacesandlyinginabedofcoolstones,gigglingateverylittlethingbecausewe’refunctioningonverylittlesleep.
Idon’tgetbacktothedormsuntilrightbeforecurfew,atwhichtimemyphonepingswithatextmessageinEnglish—Hey,it’sJaewoo.IcheckthenumberandseethatthetextisfromNathaniel’sphone.
Iquicklytextback,Hi.
Themessageismarked“read,”thenthelittlecirclesappear,signifyingthathe’styping.Likeourfirstandonlyevertextexchange,Irecallthathe’safastresponderwhenhedoeshaveaccesstohisphone.Howwastherestofyourday?
Good!Iproceedtotypeoutmyfirsteverexperienceatabathhouse,finallyendingwith:Itwasalotoffun,thoughIthinkAngelaandSorihaveseenmoreofmethanevenmymomhasinrecentyears.Isendandthenimmediatelyregretmyentireexistence.WhyohwhydidIsaythatlastpart?
There’sasignificantwaittimeinwhichIclosemyeyesandrollaroundonmybed.Finally,myphonepings.Ipeekoneeyeopen.
IwishIcouldhavebeenthere.
Oh.My.God.
Itypeupseveralresponses,includingWeshouldgotogethernexttimeandWishyouweretheretoo,butendupdeletingthemall,overcomewithembarrassment.IsettlewithHowwastherestofyourday?
Wetextbackandforthforalittlelonger.Thisweekhehasmorefreetime,butstartingthefollowingweek,XOXOwillbepromotingthesecondsingleofftheiralbum,whichmeanshe’llbealotbusier.Ifeelapinchofanxietyatthethoughtofthingsgoingbacktothewaytheywere,withJaewooignoringmeandmeunsureabouthisfeelings,butthenquicklydismissthoseworries.Thingsaregoodnow,andthat’sallthatmatters.
Goodnight.Isend,thenadd,Imissyou.
Myphonepingsimmediatelywithhisresponse.Night.Imissyoutoo.
“Jenny!”Sorishoutsfromhersideoftheroom.“I’mgoingtomurderyouifyoudon’tgotosleeprightnow!”Thirty
Mondayisanotherassemblyday.SoriandIputonourblazersandhurryovertotheconcerthall.Thoughit’sspring,it’sstillcoolenoughinthemorningsthattheblazerofferssomewarmth.Bynoonhowever,moststudentswillbeshuckingthemtoeattheirlunchbeneaththeafternoonsun.
Insidetheauditorium,wetakeseatsnearthemiddle.IwavetoAngelaafewrowsdown,seatedwithacouplegirlsfromhermajor.
Jaewoo,Nathaniel,andYoungminaren’tattheassembly.AccordingtoJaewoo’stexts,afterthefieldtrip,XOXOhadapackedweekendofactivitiesandtheirmanagerislettingthemskipfirstperiod.
It’samazinghowbeingabletocommunicatehasdonewondersforourrelationship.IfIeverneedtotalktohim,Icanjusttexthim.Thoughsometimesthere’salag,withNathanielactinggobetween.
Atonepointyesterday,afterJaewoohadsentmeaparticularlyflirtatioustext,Ipanic-textedhim,WhatifNathanielreadsthis?
Oh,hereplied,heforsurewould
What?!
SoIdeletethemallbeforeIgivehimhisphoneback.
“Ifyou’renotcareful,”Sorisays,“oneoftheteachersisgoingtoconfiscateyourphone.”I’dtakenitoutofmypocket,almostunconsciously,tocheckifIhadanynewtextsfromJaewoo.“Thoughmaybethatwouldbeagoodthing,”shemuses.
Iknowshe’sonlyjoking,butalsothere’struthtoherteasing,andIdon’twanttobethatfriend.Iputawaymyphone.
Likethefirstdayofschool,theprincipalwalksoutontothestageonceallthestudentsareseated.Wehavetostandrightbackuptobowtoher,butthenquicklyresumeourseats.
Shebeginswiththeexpectationsforthesecondquarterandendswithlogisticsabouttheend-of-the-yearshowcase.We’llallhavetoauditionindividuallyaccordingtoourmajor.Forexample,withorchestra,eachinstrumenthastoauditionforchairplacement.
Wecanalsosubmitapieceforasoloorcollaboration,thoughonlyafewarechosen,theprincipalremindsus,andthecompetitionlevelishigh.Shereiteratesthatrepresentativesfromallthemajorschools,talentagencies,andentertainmentcompanieswillbepresentintheaudience.
Plusallourfamilies.WhichremindsmethatIneedtoinviteMomandHalmeoni.Foronce,ourschedulesoverlapandmymomshouldbeattheclinicwhenIvisitHalmeonithisSunday.
Aswe’releavingtheauditorium,Sorihooksherarmwithmyownandgivesmeasidelongglance.“Iwasthinking…afterwatchingNathanielandGiTaek’sperformance,whichwasridiculous,let’sbeclear,butitgavemeanidea…”
“Spititout,Sori.”
“Whatifweauditionedtogether,asaduo.Youcouldstillauditionasasoloist,”shesaysquickly,“but,like,Ithoughtitwouldbecool.Irememberyoushowingmeyourperformanceof‘TheSwan,’anditremindedmeoftheballet.Wecoulddosomethingsimilar.Whatdoyouthink?”
“Ithink…”Isay,pretendingit’saharddecisiontomakeasshebitesherlipexpectantly,“…thatsoundslikeagreatidea!I’dlovetoperformtogetherwithyou.”I’veneverperformedaduetwithanyonebefore,andthethoughtofdoingonewithSori,who’ssuchanincredibledancer,excitesmeasmuchasthethoughtofhowmuchfunwe’llhavepracticingtogether
I’llstillprepareformysoloaudition,butthisissomethingIreallywanttodo.
“I’msoglad!”Soribeams.Withourarmsstilllinked,wemakeourwayacrossthequadintimeforhomeroom.
Jaewoodoesn’tshowuptosecondperiodandIdon’thearfromhimuntillunch,whenmyphonevibratesinmypocket.Meetmeinthe5thfloorstairwelloftheperformingartsbuilding.
“I’llseeyouguyslater,”Isaywithoutlookingup.
“Havefun.Don’tgetpregnant,”GiTaeksaysasafarewell.
PracticallysprintingtothePAbuilding,Itaketheelevatoruptothefifthfloor.IguessIcouldhavetakenthestairstomeetJaewoointhestairwell,butIrefusetobesweatyandoutofbreath.
Asthedoorsopen,I’msurprisedtofindpeopleinthehall.Ifeelself-consciousasItaketheshortfewstepsfromtheelevatorstotheexitdoor,liketheyknowsomehowI’monmywaytoanassignation.ThedoorisoneofthoseindustrialfireescapedoorsandIhavedifficultypushingitopen,finallystumblingoutontothefifth-floorlanding.
Iyelpasahandgrabsmywrist,pullingmeintothecorner.Jaewoowrapshisarmsaroundme.
“Whyhere?”Isay.“Andwhyarewebunchedinthecornerlikethis?”NotthatI’mcomplaining.
“Lookup,”hesays.
Inthecorneroftheceiling,angledrightaboveus,isasecuritycamera.
“Theyhavethemalloverschool,”Jaewoosays,“butofcoursetherearesomeblindspots.”
“Andyouknowthemall.You’relikeaspy,oracriminal.”
“Yes,pleasecontinuecomparingmetounlawfulcitizens.”
Ihookmyarmsaroundhisneck.“Whatarewestealing?”IcanfeelJaewoo’sgrinagainstmylips.
“Time?”hesuggests.Hemustmeanitasajoke,butit’sactuallytheverythingwe’retryingtosteal.Momentslikethisaresofewandfarbetween.OnceXOXOstartspromotingtheirsecondsinglenextweek,timewithhimwillbecomeevenmoreprecious.
Maybeit’sthefearofthat,theloomingseparation,thatmakeseverykissthatmuchmoredesperate.
Whenwefinallybreakapart,Jaewoogasps,“AreyoufreethisSaturday?”
“Iam,”Isay,equallybreathless.“Why?”
Hegrins.“Wouldyouliketogoonadatewithme?”Thirty-One
I’veneveractuallybeenonadate.IrealizethisthefollowingSaturdaywhenI’msupposedtomeetJaewooandeverythinginmyclosetlooksoverwornandnotspecialenoughfortheoccasion.
“Thisismymomenttoshine,”Sorisays.
“Yeah!”Angelaagreesfromwhereshesitscross-leggedonSori’sbedwithGiTaek.AsforGiTaek,he’sreadingoneofthesmutmanhwafromthehiddenstashinthebottomdrawerofSori’ssidetable.
“Sori.”Igrimace,whenshepullsoutatightbodycondress.“We’renotgoingclubbing.”
“Youdon’tknowthat,”shesays,returningthedresstotherack.
“Idoubthe’dtakemetoaplacewherehe’dprobablyberecognizedwithinminutesofsteppinginside.”
“Youwouldn’tgetinanyway,”GiTaeksays,notlookingupfromhisbook.“You’rebothunderage.”
“Didn’tBaeJaewootellyouanythingaboutwherehe’stakingyou?”Soriasks,exasperated.
“Notthelocation,”Isay,“buthedidtellmetheactivity.We’regoingtowatchamovie.”
“Boring,”GiTaekandSoriannounce.
“Ilovemovies!”Angelabeams,myonlytruefriend.
“Well,whatdoyouwanttowear,Jenny?”Sorisays.“You’repartlydressingupforJaewoo—Imean,it’syourfirstdateandyouwanthimtolosehismind—butthisismostlyforyou.Whatsortofoutfitareyouimaginingforyourself?Whatwillyoufeelconfidentin?”
ThesearegoodquestionsandIthinkseriouslybeforeanswering.“IwanttowearsomethingIwouldn’tnormallywearbutisstillme.”
“Hmm,”shelooksatmecontemplatively.“Whataboutthis?”Movingawayfromherrack,whichholdsmostofhershow-stoppingoutfits,shereachesintoherclosetandpullsoutalittleblackdress.Exceptthatit’snotblack,butaveryrichdarkbrown.“Tryit?”
IstripdowntomyundiesandAngelasqueals,thoughshe’sseenmenaked.GiTaekcovershisfacewithhiscomicbook.Istepintothedressandpullthelittlecapsleevesovermyshoulders.Ithasanattachedchoker,whichIhookclosed,andasweetheartneckline.Finished,ImovetowardSori’sfloor-lengthmirror,butshestopsme.
“Puttheseonfirstsoyoucanhavethefulleffect.”Shepullsoutapairofknee-highboots.
IputthemonintheentrancewaysothatIdon’tdamagetheflooroftheroom.GiTaekandAngelagetoffthebedtojoinSoriincrowdingaroundmeasIlookatmyselfinthemirrorforthefirsttime.
“Wow,”Isay,andreallythat’sallthereistosay.Thedressfitssnuglyovermyshouldersandchest,flaringslightlyoutatthewaist.Thebootsaccentuatemylonglegs.“AreyousureIdon’tlookoverdressed?”
“Youlookhot,Jenny.Andyoushouldbeoverdressed.You’reonadate.You’rewithacuteboy.Everyoneshouldknowit.”
“Notreally,”GiTaeksays.“OneclearpicturesenttoBulletinofthetwoofyououttogether,lookingallcouple-y,andit’sgameover.”
“I’mtheonewithexperienceinsecretlydatingaboyfromXOXO,”Sorisays,“andIcansaythatyou’llbesafewithJaewoo.He’stheresponsibleone.I’msurehe’stakingyousomewherehe’salreadyscopedout.”
IfeelashiverofexcitementgodownmyspineatthethoughtofspendingsomuchtimewithJaewoo.I’mnervous,notjustaboutthedate,butalsoaboutwhetherwecanevenhavearealdatewithoutthefearofdiscovery,butIpushthosethoughtstothebackofmyheadbecauseIwanttogoonthisdate,andIwanttowearthisdress
“Youlookgreat,Jenny,”Angelasays,andIsmileatherthroughthemirror
GiTaeksighs.“Whattimeisyourdateanyway?”
“Jaewoosayshe’sgoingtopickmeupoutsidethedormsattwo.”
I’mtakenabackbythelookofshockonalltheirfaces.
“What?Isthatweird?”
Soriyells,“Weonlyhaveahalfhourtodoyourhairandmakeup!”
I’moutsideatthecurbattwoo’clocksharp.
At2:05,Jaewoohasn’tappeared,soIwalkdowntothecornerofthestreettoseeifhe’scomingfromthatdirection.Iknowhedoesn’thaveNathaniel’sphoneonhimbecausehesaidhewouldn’t,soIcan’teventexthim.
Thenaminutelater,asleek,bluecarpullsupnexttome,withJaewoointhedriver’sseat.Beforehecangetout,Iopenthedoorandslipinside.
IfeelawarmglowasIseehowhe’sdrinkinginthesightofme.“Youlookgreat.”
“Thanks!Ihavequestionsthough.”
“Yeah,sorryIwaslate.Therewastraffic—”
“Firstofall,youcandrive?Andsecond,youhaveacar?”
Helaughs.“Yesandyes.Igotmylicenseearlythisyear.Iusuallykeepmycarparkedinthegarageofourdorms,butIhavetodriveitnowandthentokeeptheenginefresh.”
Heeasesawayfromthecurb.He’snotasdressedupasIam,wearingahoodieandblackjeans,buthe’sdefinitelyputinsomeeffort.There’sgelinhishairandhe’swearingapairofstudearringsthatareadeepredthatsortofmatchmydress,whichiscompletelycoincidentalbutpleasesmenonetheless.
“Youwanttoplaysomemusic?”heasks.“Youcansyncupyourphonetothecar.”
“Sure.”IreachformyphoneandopenupBluetooth.“Icanplayanything?”
“Knockyourselfout.”
Iscrollthroughmysongchoices.Somethingaboutthisconversationgivesmeasenseofdéjàvu.
“Thatnightatthekaraokebar,whenIwaslookingforasongforyoutosing.AnXOXOsongwaslistedinthebook,wasn’tit?”
“Yeah.Itwasoneofthesongswereleasedbeforeourfirstfull-lengthalbum.”
“ImagineifI’dhadyousingthatsong.”
“Iwouldhaverockedit,obviously.”
Idon’thavethatexactsongonmyphone,soIinsteadplayXOXO’s“Don’tLookBack,”whichismyfavoriteoftheirsanyway.
JaewooshakeshisheadandIstartlaughing.
“I’mgladthisamusesyou.”
“Don’ttellmeyoudon’tlistentoyourownsongsandsingalongtoyourparts.”
“Tobehonest,Idon’t…”Hepauses.“IliketorapSunandYoungmin’sparts.”
“OhmyGod,youhavetodoitnow.”
“Onlyifyousingthevocalparts.”
“You’reon!”
Irestart“Don’tLookBack”fromthebeginningandthistimesingthefirstverse.Thenwhenit’sYoungmin’srapbreak,IcheerJaewooalong.
Ittakesusaboutanhourfromtheacademytoreachourdestination,asmallcityoutsidetheSeoulcapitalarea,allofwhichisspentsingingandtalking.Onroadswherethere’slesstraffic,JaewoorestshisrightarmontheconsolebetweenussoIcanplaywithhisfingers.
It’swildthatwehavetodrivesofartowatchamovie—whenthere’samallwithatheateronesubwaystopfromourschool—butitmakessensetoo.Outhere,it’sunlikelywe’llencounterpaparazzi.
“Ialreadypurchasedtheticketsforthemovie,”Jaewoosays,“sowehaveahalfhourtokill.”
“Okay,”Isay.“Whatdoyouwanttodo?”
“It’suptoyou,”hesays.“Wecouldgoovertothetheaterandseewhat’saroundthere.”
“Thatsoundsperfect,”Isayashelinkshisfingersthroughmine.
Luckily,foraSaturday,themallwherethetheaterislocatedisnotcrowded,andmostofthepeopleareeitherolderorwiththeirfamilies.Noonepaysusanyattention.Wenaturallygravitatetowardthesmallarcadeoutsidethetheaterwithouteitherofussayinganything.
Wespendsometimeplayingthiszombieshootinggame,reachingthefourthlevelonlytobekilledinasplatterofgore.Then,beforeleaving,Jaewootrieshishandatwinningaplushieformefromoneoftheclawmachines.Hespendsabout?10000ontenattemptswithnosuccess.
“It’srigged!”heyells,aftertheplushdolldropsrightnexttothechute.
“It’sokay,”Isaysoothingly,holdingbackmylaughterathowexasperated,andcute,helooks.
Aswestepawayfromthemachine,alittlegirlhopsupandslipsin?1000,maneuveringthestickslightlyandpressingtheGobutton.Theclawdescends,picksuptheplushie,anddepositsitintothechute.Reachingin,shegrabsthestuffedanimal,blinksupatus,andthenrunsaway.
“Tobefair,”Isayafteralongpause,“I’msureaneightyearoldwouldappreciatethatplushiemorethanIwould.”
“MaybeIcanbuyitoffher.”
“Jaewoo!”
Hehooksanarmaroundme,andwewalksidebysidetotheconcessionsstand.
“Sinceyougottheticketsandpaidforthearcadegames,I’llgetthefood,”Iannounce.
“It’sfine.I’llgetthem.”
“Iinsist.”
“Jenny,IjustsignedanendorsementdealwithSamsung.”Hegrins.“Letmespoilyouwithpopcorn.”
“Wow,”Isay,“that’s—that’samazing.Congratulations.”
“Thanks.Itwasn’tjustme.Allthememberssignedthedeal—it’sourbiggestsofar.”
Heapproachesthecounterfortheconcessionstand,scrollingthroughthemanualorderingsystem.
Istandbehindhim,feelingsuddenlyoverwhelmed.
He’slikelyamillionaireatseventeen.Heownsanexpensive-lookingcar
Iremindmyselfit’snotlikewe’reinthisCinderellarelationship.I’mnotdestitute.Thoughmymom’sasingleparent,she’salawyer,andI’venevernotbeenabletobuywhatIwanted,especiallyaftergettingmypart-timejobatUncleJay’s.Butit’shardtoshakethefeelingthatourlivesaredramaticallydifferent.
“Shouldwegetacombo?”Jaewooasks.“Thenwecantryallthedifferentflavorsofpopcorn.”
“Okay,”Isay,thoughI’mnotreallypayingattention.
Thestrangefeelingdoesn’tdissipateuntilwe’vetakenourseatsandthemoviestartstoplay.Atfirst,it’sweirdseeingKoreansubtitlesatthebottomofamovieinEnglish,butthenIgetabsorbedinwhat’shappeningonscreenandIcompletelyforgetaboutthesubtitles.
Bythetimethemovie’sover,I’mfeelingmynormalselfagain.Sowhatifhe’srichandsuccessful?I’mnotcomparingmyselftohim;it’snotlikeIthinkI’munworthyofhim.
Aglanceatmyphoneshowsit’salittlepastsix.Theplanwastomakeitbacktothedormsbyten,whichmeansweonlyhaveafewmorehours.
“Wanttograbdinner?”Jaewooasks.“Therearerestaurantsonthetopfloor.”
“Okay,”Isay,takinghishand.
“Oppa,”avoicesays,fromclosebehindus.“Ithoughtthatwasyou.Whatareyoudoinghere?Andwhoisshe?”Thirty-Two
Behindusisamiddleschooler,perhapsthirteenorfourteen,withacellphoneinherhand.Thiswasamistake.Ishouldhaveneverlethimtakemeoutonthisdate.Iknewitwastoogoodtobetrue.Nowwe’llbeexposedandourrelationshipwillendbeforeittrulyhadthechancetobegin.
“Joori-yah,”Jaewoosays.“Whatareyoudoingatthemallsolate?”
I’msoinmyheadthatittakesmeamomenttorealizehe’saddressingherbyname,whichmeansheknowsher.
“Jenny,thisismyyeodongsaeng,”Jaewoosays,placingahandonherhead,“BaeJoori.”
Hislittlesister.NowthatI’mlookingforaresemblance,Icanseetheyhavethesamestraightnoseandnarrowjawline.Hishandsomefeatureslookstrikingonhersmallface.
“Nicetomeetyou,”Isay.
“Nicetomeetyou!”shereturns,thenwhipsherheadinJaewoo’sdirection,onehandonherhip.“Areyoucominghome?Isthatwhyyou’reintheneighborhood?”
Thisishisneighborhood?Nowonderhewasconfidentbringingmehere.Hemustknowtheareawell.ThoughIthoughthewasfromBusan….
Imustlookconfusedbecausehesays,“MymomandJoorimovedtothecityayearago.Imeanttotellyou.”
Inarrowmyeyesandherubsthebackofhisneck,lookingsheepish.Joorishakesherheadandclickshertongue.
“Itmustbenicetohavethemclose,”Iconcede.
Hesighsinrelief,thenturnstohissister.“Idon’tknow,Joori-yah.Momprobablyhasn’tpreparedanything….”
“Shecanorderdelivery!Pleasesayyou’llcome.”
WhenJaewooappearshesitant,Jooriappealstome.“Eonni.”Sheaddressesmeasshewouldanoldersister.“Willyoucomehavedinneratourhouse,please?”
Ismile,charmed.“Iwouldloveto.”
WedecidetowalkthethreeblockstoJaewoo’sfamily’sapartment,whichisonthetwenty-fifthfloorofaresidentialapartmentbuilding,sprintingthelasthundredfeetwhenitstartstorain.
Jooritextedaheadtolettheirmotherknowwe’recoming,andsowhenwearrive,thekitchenisalreadyemittingdeliciouscookingsmells—garlic,sesameoil,andsoysauce.
JoorifollowsJaewoointothekitchenwhileItakeoffSori’sboots.Ipulldownmyskirt—IwouldhavewornsomethingmoreconservativeifI’dknownIwasgoingtomeethismothertoday—andhurrytofollow.
“Eomma,”Jaewoosays,asatallneat-lookingwomaninanapronembraceshim.“Youdidn’thavetoprepareawholemeal.”Thesmalltableinthekitcheniscoveredwithsidedishes,withonlyanemptyspotinthemiddle.
“OfcourseIdid,”shesays.“Wehaveaguest.”
Hereyesturnexpectantlyonme.
“ThisisGoJooyoung,”Jaewoosays,andIlookathiminsurprisethatherememberedmyKoreanname.I’donlytoldhimonce,backinLA.“ShegoesbyherEnglishname,Jenny.She’smygirlfriend.”
“Yeochin!”Joorishouts.“Iknewit!”
Istareathim,wide-eyed.Ididn’tthinkhe’dintroducemeashisgirlfriend,butasaclassmate.We’dkeptitasecretatschool,besidesourfriendswho’vefigureditoutforthemselves,andit’ssurprisingtobesoopenaboutit.Thenagain,thisishisfamily,thesearethepeoplehelovesandtrusts.
“You’reverywelcomehereJooyoung-ah,”Jaewoo’smothersays,“ah,Imean,Jenny.”Shesmiles.“We’rejustwaitingon…”Thedoorbellrings.“Thereitisnow!”
Sheopensthedoorandbowstothedeliverymanwhohandsoverawrappedpackage.Bringingittothekitchen,sheopensthepackageandtakesoutawholeroastedchicken.SheshoosJaewooawaywhenhemovestoassisther.“Whydon’tyoushowJennytheapartmentwhileIfinishsettingoutthemeal?”
Theapartmentisspacious,abouttwicethesizeofmygrandmother’s.
“Thisismyroom!”Joorisays,pushingopenthedoornearestthekitchen.It’samedium-sizedroomwithafull-sizebed,adeskwithin-progresshomework,openbooks,andacomputer.ThereareanimepostersonthewallsandavideoconsoleconnectedtoasmallTV.
“Mybrotherspoilsme,”shesayswhenshecatchesmelooking.I’dnoticedthemassiveflatscreeninthelivingroomearlier,andIwonderifhe’dboughtthatforthemtoo.Maybeeventheentireapartment.
WeskipJaewoo’smother’sroomandgostraighttoJaewoo’s,nexttotheentranceway.AsIentertheroom,heclosesthedoorbehindus,andIrealizeJoorihadn’tfollowedusinside.Iturnawayfromhim,suddenlynervous.
Hisisthesmallestroomintheapartment,whichmakessensebecauseheliveswiththeotherXOXOmembersthemajorityofthetime.It’ssparselyfurnishedwithadresser,abookcase,andatwinbed.Ilookawayfromthebed,blushing,andinsteadfocusonthebookcase.There’smostlyalbumsontheshelves,afewbooks,andtwophotographs.Ipickupthefirst,agrainyphotoofhisfamilyatthebeach,hissisterandmotherstandingoneithersideofhim.Joori’sadorablewithagap-toothedsmile,noolderthansixyearsold,whichwouldmakeJaewooaroundtenoreleven.Unlikehismotherandsister,he’snotsmilinginthephoto.
“WejustmovedbacktoBusanthatsummer,”Jaewoosays.“Aftermyparent’sdivorce,welivedintheUSforacoupleofyears,sothatmymomcouldescapethegossip,butendedupmovingbacktoKoreawhenweranoutofmoney.Itwasn’taneasytime.IgotinalotoffightswhenIwasakid,nothingserious,justmadattheotherkidssayingstuffaboutmymom.Youweren’tfaroffwhenyoucalledmeagangster.”Thoughhislastwordsareteasing,there’sawarinesstothem.
Liftingmyhand,Itrailmyfingersacrossthephotograph.Onacloserlook,IcanseeabruisebeneathJaewoo’seye.Andhisarmiscrookedataslightlyawkwardangle.Ilookup.“Isthis…?”BackinLA,inthephotobooth,I’daskedhimifithadhurt,breakinghisarm,andhe’danswered,notasmuchasthefirsttime.
Henods.“Soonafterthatphotowastaken,IwasscoutedforJoah.Atfirst,Irefused.Buttheycamebackthefollowingyearandmymomforcedmetogo.Ididn’tknowifIwasdoingtherightthing,movingtoSeoul.Ialwayslovedmusic,butIdidn’twanttoleavemymomandJoori.”
Iplacethephotobackontheshelf.Itmusthavebeensohardforhim,leavingbehindhismotherandsisterwhenhe’dspentsomuchofhischildhoodprotectingthem.ThoughIcanseeinhisstoryhowitwashismotherwhowasprotectinghimbysendinghimaway.
Reachingout,Ipickupthesecondphotoonhisshelf.It’stheboysofXOXO,thoughtheyallappearyounger.JaewooandNathanielbothscrappyfifteen-year-olds,Sunhandsomeandelegantevenatseventeen,andYoungminthirteenyearsold,flashingapeacesign.Unlikethephotoonthebeach,Jaewoo’sgrinningfromeartoear,hisarmthrownacrosstheshouldersofSunandYoungminononesideandNathanielontheother.
“ItwasactuallySunwhoconvincedmetostay,”Jaewoosays,“whenIthoughtaboutleaving.Hetoldmethatitwashardbeinganolderbrother,butwithhimaround,Ididn’thavetobethestrongoneanymore.ThenwhenNathanielcamearound,Ihadafriendmyownage,someonewhochallengedmetobebetter,andthenfinallyYoungmin….Hemakesmewanttobearolemodel,ahyeong.”
Iplacethephotobackontheshelf.I’movercomewithfeelings,sadnessforhischildhood,happinessthathe’sfoundsupportandlovewithXOXOandtheothermembers,andthisacheinsidemetoprotecthim,tokeephimsafe.
“Wow,”hesays,rubbingthebackofhisneck.“Ican’tseemtostopopeningmyselfuptoyou.It’sbeenlikethisfromthebeginning.Youdosomethingtome.Itfeelssimilartosongwriting,butbetter.”
“No,it’sthesameforme.”Ipause.“Ican’tbelieveI’mgoingtotellyouthis.”
Helaughs.“What?”
“Thenightwemet,Ihadjustgottenfeedbackfromthejudgesofmylatestcellocompetition.TheytoldmeIlackedspark.Andso,whenwefirstmetinthekaraokeroom,Iwasannoyedaboutwhattheysaid,butalsoatyou,’causeyouwereannoying.”
Helaughs,shakinghishead.
“Butthenwemetagain,onthebus,andthenwewenttothefestival,andeventhoughitwasonlysupposedtobeforonenight,themoretimeIspentwithyou,themoreIdidn’twantittoend.”
“Areyousaying…”Jaewoosaysslowly,“thatIwasyourspark?”
“I’msayingtherewasasparkbetweenus!”Imovetopunchhimplayfullyandhecatchesmywrist.
“Andnow?”
“Idon’twantittoend.”
Helowershishead,hislipsabreathapartfrommine.
“Oppa?”Jooriknocksonthedoor.“Dinnertime!”
Hemovesupwardandpressesakisstomyforeheadinstead,thengrabsmyhandandopensthedoor.Inthekitchen,hismotherisplacingalargeplatterofthedebonedpiecesofchickeninthecenterofthespread.
Joorilooksupfromwhereshe’salreadyseatedonthefarsideofthesquaretable.“Eonni,comesitnexttome.”
ItaketheseattoherleftandJaewoositstomyright,acrossfromher,withtheirmotheroppositeme.ThelasttimeIsatdownforamealwithmyfamilywaswhenIfirstarrivedinSeoul.BeingherewithJaewooandthepeoplewholovehimmakesmemissthepeoplewholoveme.NexttimeIseemymother,I’mgoingtoaskifwecansitdownforamealwithHalmeoni.
Jaewoo’smotherisanincrediblecook.Besidesthechickensheordered,whichisapparentlyoneofJaewoo’sfavorites,Jaewoo’smothercookedeverysingledishofbanchan.
AtonepointIturntoJooriandask,“Doyouwanttobeanidollikeyourbrother?”
“Ofcoursenot!”shesays,wrinklinghernose.“Iwanttobeavideogamedesigner.”
Jaewoowinksather.
Afterdinner,Jaewoo’smomcutsoffslicesofKoreanmelon,andwewatchaBBCspecialonpenguinsontheTVasoutsidetheraincomesdownevenharder.
“Youparkedatthemall?”Jaewoo’smotherasks.
“Yes.Ifitdoesn’tstopinthenexthalfhour,we’lltakeanumbrellaandwalkover.”
Jaewoo’smotherfrowns.“Idon’tknowifyoushouldbedrivinginthisweather,especiallywithJenny.I’dfeelmuchbetterifyoustayedthenight.Jenny,wouldthatbeokaywithyou?Youcanborrowmypajamasandwehaveasparetoothbrush.”
“Uh,”Isay,foralackofabetterword.Ineverexpectedtobeinasituationwheremyidolboyfriend’smotherasksmetostaythenightaftermyfirstdatewithsaidboyfriend,andalsoafterthefirsttimemeetingher.“Okay.”
“Perfect!Callyourmother?”
“Iliveinthedorms.I’lltextmyroommate.”
IopenmyphoneandmessageSori.I’mstayingatJaewoo’sovernight.Canyoucoverforme?Theresidentassistantchecksroomsataroundteno’clock,butSoricanpretendI’malreadyinbed.
Sure,comesSori’simmediateresponse.Then,GETITGIRL!!!!!
Iquicklylookup,butJaewooandhisfamilyhavereturnedtowatchingthepenguinsfalloverandgetbackupagainonTV.
Hismotherdoesn’twanthimdrivingintherain,IquicklytypeoutAlso,hisfamilyissonice???
I’mexpectingdetailswhenyougetback,Sorireplies,andIsendherazippermouthemoji.
Afterthedocumentary,Jaewoo’smomgoesintoherroomandreturnswithoneofthoselong,andinmyopinionveryunflatteringbutcomfortabledressesthatI’veseenolderKoreanwomenwear,completewithaclashingpaintedflowerdesign.IputitonandJoorigiggles.
Jaewoodeadpans,“Hot.”
WespendthenexthourbeforebedtimeplayingMarioKart.Byeleveno’clock,weseparatetoourrooms,Jaewootohis,andJooriandmetohers.
“Thankyouforsharingyourroomwithme,”Isay,asIslipintothebedafterher.Ihadtodisplacesomestuffedanimalstofit.
“I’mhappyto.You’relikemyfuturesister-in-law,right?”shegiggles,thenturnstothewallandimmediatelystartstosnore.
Ienvyherpeacefulslumber.
Ittakesmemuchlongertofallasleep,theeventsofthedaybuzzinginmyhead.
WhileIfinallymanagetodriftoff,Iwakewithastartwhenthunderrumblesoutsidethewindow.TheclockonJoori’snightstandsayit’sthreeinthemorning.Carefulnotwakeher,Islipoutofbed.Inthekitchen,Ifillmyselfaglassofwaterandthenwalkovertothebalconyoffthelivingroom.Thedoorisunlocked,soIslideitbackgentlyandstepoutside.Littlepottedplantsrimthefloor,aswellasadryingrack,foldedandplacedagainstthewall.Thebalconyisn’topentotheelements,butbehindapaneofglass,wherethewaterpattersagainstit,likemusic.
“Can’tsleep?”Jaewoostepsontothebalcony,slidingthedoorclosedbehindhim.
“Yeah.”Iturnfromhimtolookbackoutthewindow.Throughtherain,Icanseethecity.Afewlightsglowinthefog,sparksoflifeinthemist-bluedarkness.Andbeyondallthemanybuildings,likeabeautifulbackdrop,aseeminglynever-endingmountainrange.
“Koreaissopretty,”Isay.
“Yeah,”Jaewoosayssoftly.
“I’mgoingtomissit.”
“You’llcomeback.”
Unspokenwordsliebetweenus.ThatIwillleave.Thatourtimetogetherislimited.
“Jenny…”hebegins.
“Let’sgoinside,”Iinterrupt.It’saconversationwehavetohaveeventually,butnottonight.“Beforewewakeyourmomandsister.”
Hehesitates,asifhewantstosaymore,butrelents.“Okay.”
Insidetheapartment,neitherofussaysaword,andyetwebothmakeourwaytoJaewoo’sroom.
Iclimbintohisbed,andhewrapshisarmsaroundme.
Wedon’tdoanything,whichisbothadisappointmentandarelief.Imustdriftoffeventually,becauseonlyanhourorsolater,heshakesmegentlyawake.
“Jenny.”Hekissesme,onmyneckbelowmyear.
Iwake,groggily,andstumblemywaybacktoJoori’sroom,slidingintoherwarmbedanddriftingintosleepjustaslightpeeksthroughthewindow,sunlightafterrain.Thirty-Three
Thenextmorning,JaewooandIheadovertothemallwhenitopenssothatIcanbuysocksandsneakersaswellasasweatshirttowearovermydress.Weactuallypurchasematching“couple”sweatshirtswithcutecartooncharacters,whichIknowGiTaekandSoriaregoingtoteasemehorriblyabout,butIthinkwelookadorable.
It’sSunday,soinsteadofthedorms,JaewoodrivesustotheclinicsothatIcanvisitHalmeoniwhilehegoestotherapy.
WalkingintoHalmeoni’sroom,I’msurprisedtofindmymothersittingatherbedside.I’dforgottenthatshewasvisitingtodaybutafterspendingsuchagreateveningandmorningwithJaewooandhisfamily,I’mexcitedtospendmoretimewithmine.
“Eomma,”mymomsays,asIapproachthebed.Halmeonilooksupatmewithanapologeticglance.I’veapparentlywalkedrightintosomething.Momdoesn’tevenacknowledgeme.“Stopbeingstubborn.Thedoctortellsmeyoucouldhavehadsurgeryaweekago,butthatyourefused.”
Halmeonipouts.“Youweren’thereaweekago,”
“ButI’mherenow.Wecouldscheduleitasearlyasnextweek.”
“Why?”Halmeonisays.“You’rehereforanotherthreemonths.Whycan’twewait?”
“It’lltaketimeforyoutorecover,”Momcounters.“And…”Shesighs,pressingherfingerstohertemples,aclearsignshe’sstressed.“Ineedtogobacktomylife.Jennyhastogobacktohers.Iwasthinkingthatifyouhadyoursurgeryearly,wecouldbeinLAbytheendofJune.”
Myheartdrops.Thethoughtofleavingearlyneveroccurredtome.
“MyshowcaseisattheendofJune,”Isay.
“Icangetthesurgeryafter,”Halmeoniaddsquickly.“IfIgetitnow,Iwon’tbewellenoughtoseeJennyperform.”
WebothwaitexpectantlyasMommullsoverourwords.“Fine,”shesays,andIletoutasighofrelief.“You’llwatchJennyperformattheshowcase,andthenwe’llleaveasplanned,soonafteryourecover.”
Whilemymomchecksatextonherphone,HalmeoniandIexchangeaconspiratorialglance.Ofcoursewewanttospendmoretimewitheachother,butIalsoknowHalmeoniwantsthewholethreemonthswithherdaughter.AndIwantthattimewithJaewooandmyfriends.
Therestofthemorningispleasant,thoughmymomspendsalotofitansweringemails.Shedoestellmealittleaboutthecaseshe’sbeenworkingon,whichsoundsincrediblycomplicated.Myheartswellswithprideatallthegoodworkshe’sdoing.
Forlunch,MomtakesHalmeoniandmetoanaengmyeonrestaurantnearthebakery.Whileslurpingupdeliciousbuckwheatnoodlesinchilledbroth,Halmeoniasksmequestionsabouttheshowcase.
“I’mauditioningforasolo,”Itellher.“AndmyfriendSoriandIarealsoauditioningforaduettogether.”
“IsSoriyourroommate?”Halmeoniasks.“I’msogladyou’refriendsnow!”
“Whatdoyoumeanaduet?”Momaskssharply.
Iglanceathernervously.“It’sacelloanddancepiece.Sori’sadancemajorand…”
“Soyou’redoingthreeauditions?”Mominterrupts.“Foryourensemble,solo,andthisduet?”
“Yes?”
“Jenny,”shesays.“Aren’ttheauditionsinlessthantwoweeks?Howareyousupposedtoprepareforthreeseparateauditions?HaveyoutalkedtoEunbi?”
“Soojung-ah,”Halmeonichides.“Ithinkit’sawonderfulthingforJennytoperformwithherfriend.”
“It’snotaboutanicememory,Eomma.ThisisaboutJenny’sfuture.”Shelooksatme,disappointmentwrittenalloverherface.“I’mstartingtoregretmydecisiontoletyoucometoKorea.Youshouldbeconcentratingonyourmusic,notgettingdistractedbyyourfriends.”
IfSoriisadistraction,Ishuddertothinkwhatshe’dsayifsheknewaboutJaewoo.
AcrossthetableHalmeonitakesmyhandandsqueezes.“She’sonlyupsetwithyoubecauseofme.”
Thatmightbetrue,butMom’snotwrongeither.AuditioningwiththreeseparatepiecesismoredifficultthanifIhadonlytwotoconcentrateon.ButI’mdeterminedtomakeitwork.
Forthenextweek,IdoeverythingIcansothatallofmypiecesareasuccess.Ibookmoretimeinthepracticerooms,andSoriandIcontinueourlate-nightrehearsalsinthedancestudio.TheonlydownsidetoallthetimespentinpracticeisthatIseelessofJaewoo,Thoughthat’spartlyduetohisownschedule,whichhasgottenbusiersinceXOXObeganpromotingthesecondsingleofftheiralbum.
ThefollowingWednesday,theprogramoftheshowcaseisposted.Ifindmynameonthelistofsoloistsandmykneesalmostgiveout.
“Jenny!”Sorishouts.
She’spointingatthepaperthatlistsallthecollaborations.
“Wegotit?”Iask.
“Wegotit!”shescreams.Wehugandbouncearoundinacircle.Ourswastheonlyduetthatwasaccepted.Itwasarelieftogetthesolo,butgettingtheduetfeelslikeavictory,onemadeevensweeterbecauseIcanshareitwithSori.
“OhmyGod,”shesays.“Wehavetothinkaboutoutfits!”
ThefirstpersonItellisJaewoo.OneoftheperksoftheSamsungdealwasthatheandtherestofXOXOweregiventhelatestmodelofsmartphones,paidforbythecompany.Andmoreimportant,notmonitoredbytheirmanager.
Guesswhat?Itext.
Herespondsimmediately.Yougotit?
Yes!
Congrats.Ican’twaitforyourperformances.You’regoingtobeincredible.
You’llannounceme,ofcourse.SinceJaewooandNathanielhavealreadydebuted,they’veoptedoutofperformingandinsteadareactingasthenight’sMCs.JennyGo,cellistextraordinaire,andbestgirlfriendinthewholewideworld.
Yes,I’llsayitjustlikethat.WhatareyoudoingafterschoolonFriday?Youwanttohangout?
YES!
MeetmeatJoahafterschool?I’llgivethesecurityguardyournameandinformation.
I’llhavetocanceloneofmybookingsinthepracticeroom,whichisslightlypainfulonlybecausethey’resodifficulttocomebynowthattheshowcaseisalittleoveramonthaway,butI’vebarelyseenJaewoosinceourdate.Skippingasinglepracticewon’thurt.
ItakeacabtotheaddressJaewootextsmerightafterclassesgetoutonFriday.Idon’tknowwhatIexpectedthemainbuildingofJoahEntertainmenttolooklike,butit’sfairlyinconspicuous,withaslate-grayindustrial-lookingfacade.Ipaythecabdriverandstepontothestreet.AsIapproach,theyoungpeopleloiteringoutside,girlsdressedinschooluniformslikeme,stareatmecuriously.
Theguardinthesmallgatehouseglancesupatmyapproach,butthenlooksbackdownatalaptop,wherehe’swatchingsomesortofvarietyshow.
Iwaveathimthroughthewindow.“Excuseme.”
Withaheavysigh,hestandsupfromhischair.“Whatdoyouwant?”hesaysthroughtheplatedglass.
“I—”DoIjusttellhimI’mheretoseeJaewoo?I’msurealltheseothergirlsarealsoheretoseehim.
“Well?Speakup,girl.”
“Mynameisonthelist?JennyGo.J-E-N-N-Y-G-O,”Ispellout.
I’mrelievedtodiscoverthatalistactuallyexistswhenhepicksupaclipboardwedgedbeneaththecomputer.WrittenverticallydownapieceofpaperarenamesinKorean;theverylastnameismine,scribbledinEnglish.Hepointstoit,andInod.
“Tellwhoeveryou’remeetingtojoinyouinthelobby.”
“Thankyou.”Ibow.
Ihurriedlyenterthebuilding,hunchingmyshoulderstowardoffthecurse-filledeyesofthegirlsbehindme.
Theinteriorofthebuildingisalotnicerthantheoutside.Thelobbyisspacious,filledwithnaturallightfromupperfloorwindows.There’sevenanemployeecafétotherightofthelobby.
“Jenny!”Jaewoojogsoverfromtheelevatorbank.Helookslikehejustcamefromwashingup,hishairslightlydamp,wearingalooseT-shirtthatshowshiscollarbones.
IpressmyhandsbehindmesothatIdon’tleapintohisarms.Asfarasanyonecantell,I’mjustoneofJaewoo’sclassmates,alongforatour.BecauseoftherelationshipbetweenSAAandJoah,toursarecommonenoughthatpeoplewouldn’tthinktwiceatmybeinghere.
“Hey,”Igreethim.“IthinkImadeallyourfangirlsoutsideexplodewithjealousy.”
“There’speopleoutside?”Jaewoolooksinthedirectionofthedoors.“Ishouldaskreceptiontohandoutsomewaterbottles.It’sthehottestdaythisyear,byfar.”
Ifollowhimtothereceptionistdesksohecanmaketherequestbeforeweheadovertotheelevators.
“Ithoughtwe’dgoonatourofthebuilding,andthenmaybeordertakeout,”hesays,pressingtheUpbutton.“Isthereanythingyou’recraving?”
“Hmm…”Ileanbackagainstthewalloftheelevator.“What’saroundherethatdeliverstothisaddress?”
“Younameit,theydeliverit.”
Itapafingertomylips.“Iwantadouble-fudgesundae,waffles,andjjajangmyeon.”
“Done.”
Theelevatorstopsonthethirdfloorandthedoorsopen.Ashortfoyerconnectstoalargedancestudiowithfloor-to-ceilingmirrors.Emblazonedonthebackwallisthecompanylogoandsign:JoahEntertainment.
“I’veseenthisroombefore,”Isay.“Inyourdancepracticevideos.”
“Youwatchthose?”
“You’remyboyfriend.Don’tthinkforasecondIhaven’tseenallyourvideos,eventhefan-madeonesthatpointoutalltheevidencethatyouandNathanielareacouple.”
“That’sembarrassing,”Jaewoosays.“AndhereIthoughtwewerebeingcareful.”
Wevisitafewmoreroomslikethisoneonthesamefloor,thoughsmaller.Someofthemareoccupiedbysweatykids,rangingfromagesthirteentosixteen.WhenJaewooandIwalkin,theyallstoptheirpracticingtobow,callinghim“seonbae.”
Theybowtometoo,andImimicJaewoo,noddingpolitely.
“Trainees,”heexplains.
Afterward,wegodownaflightofstairstothesecondfloorwhereheshowsmearoomwithalongconferencetableusedforcompanymeetings.Thelaststoponthetouristherecordingstudio.Jaewoopopsouttoorderourtakeoutbeforerejoiningme.Thestudioisfairlysmall,withaleathercouchandlowtable.Themajorityoftheroomistakenupbyacontrolpanelthatlooksoutontoaseparateroomencasedbyglasswitharecordingmicrophonehangingfromtheceiling.
“WhenI’mnotinthepracticerooms,I’musuallyhereorintheroomnextdoor,whichhasallourinstruments.Rightbeforeourtourthissummer,we’rereleasingaspecialextendedalbumandincludingafewnewtracks.Icanplayyouasamplefromoneofthem,ifyou’dlike.”
“Iwouldlovethat,”Isay,andhesmiles.
HesitsononeofthelargechairsinfrontofthecontrolpanelandItaketheonebesidehim,swivelingsothatI’mfacinghim.
“Here,”hesays,handingmeapairoflargenoise-cancelingheadphones.Heplaysaroundwithfewcontrolsonthepanelandthenmusicfloodsmyears.
Irecognizethelow,beautifulsoundofacello.IlookupandJaewoonods,asmileonhisface.Thecelloissoonjoinedbyawholesymphonicorchestra,violinsstrikingapowerfulchord,thentheelectricguitarcomesinatthesametimeasthedrums,andmywholebodyshiversattheeffect.Andthat’sonlytheintro;itgetsbetterfromthere.
Thesongisbrilliant.It’sgoingtobegenre-breakingoncethevocalsareadded,andIcanonlyimaginehowamazingthedancethat’llbechoreographedforasonglikethiswillbe.
Whenthesamplefinishesplaying,Itakeofftheheadphones.“Iloveit,”Igush.
“Yeah?I’mgladtohearyousaythat.It’salittledifferentthanournormalsound.Ithinkit’sbecauseeveryonetookapartincreatingit.Suncameupwiththemelody,I’mwritingthelyricswhileYoungmin’swritingtherapverses,andNathaniel’sworkingwiththechoreographer.We’veincludedSun’sinterestinrock,NathanielandYoungmin’sloveof90sK-pop,andmyinterestinexperimentingwithsoundsandblendinggenres.It’salotinonesong,but…”
“It’sincredible.”
Jaewoobiteshislip.“Doyoureallythinkso?”
“Yes!It’salreadysogood.IwishyoucouldfeelwhatI’mfeelingrightnow.I’minshock.Myheartisracing.Ican’tevenimaginewhatit’sgoingtobelikeonceyou’veaddedthelyrics.”
“I’mworkingonthemnow.”
“DoIgetapreview?”
Helaughs.“IthinkIwanttowaitabit,untilthewholesongiscomplete,andyoucanhavethefullexperience.You’llbeoneofthefirstpeopletohearit,Ipromise.”
NormallyI’dbepleasedattheprospectbutmymindsnagsonwhathe’ssaidearlier,thatthealbumwillbereleasedrightbeforeourtourthissummer.WillIevenbeheretolistentothesong?I’vebeensobusylatelywithpracticingfortheaudition.It’llgetworseintheweeksrampinguptotheshowcase.Andnowhehastopreparefornotonlyanextendedalbumbutatour?Howwillwegetanytimetogether?
“Tobehonest,”Jaewoosays,hiseyesdowncastasheslideshishandacrossthecontrolboard.“Iwasalittleworried,sinceitwasmyideatoincludeasonglikethis.IwasafraidthatIwasleadingourgroupinthewrongdirection.But…”Helooksup,meetingmyeyes.“Itrustyouropinion.Ifyoulikethesong,thenIcanfeelconfidentthatI’mdoingtherightthing.”
Icatchmybreath,feelingoverwhelmedbyarushofemotions.BecauseIwanttobethereforhimwhenheneedssupport,towitnesshiminmomentslikethese,whenhe’sonthevergeofcreatingsomethingbrilliant.
JustasIwanthimtobethereforme,formyupsanddowns,whatevertheymaybe.
Buthowcanwebe,whenweliveindifferentcountries?Whenwe’repursuingsuchdifferentdreams,heanidolinabandthat’sabouttobeaglobalsensation,meaconcertcellist?AndIdon’tevenknowifI’llachievethatsinceI’mcancelingpracticetimestobewithhim.
“Wherearetherestrooms?”Iaskabruptly.
Heblinks,leaningbackfromwherehe’dsatforwardinhisseat,asifhecouldn’thelpmovingclosertome,evenwiththecamerasintheroom.“Outthedooranddownthehalltoyourleft.”
“I’llberightback.”Iswivelthechairaroundandhopout,followingJaewoo’sdirections.
Inthebathroom,Isplashcoldwaterontomyface,staringblanklyatmyreflection.
Whatiswrongwithme?WhyamIgettingsoemotional?
It’sjustthat,IcanfeelmyselffallingharderandharderforJaewoo,andatthesametimethecountdownclockisticking,fortheshowcase,forHalmeoni’ssurgery,forwhenIleaveKorea.Ijustfeelsooverwhelmed.
WhenIgetback,Jaewoo’snolongerintheroom.Instead,Sunsitsontheleathercouch.
Ihesitate,unsureifIshouldleave.
“Whyareyoustandingbythedoor?Comeinside.Sitdown.”Hesaysthewordspolitely,injondaemal,buthistonesoundsmorelikeacommandthanarequest
Isitdownononeoftheswivelchairsacrossfromhim.
“Jaewoowentdowntopickupthefood,”heexplains.
Inod,placingmyhandsonmyknees.Silenceensues,withhimjustlookingatme,hisexpressionunreadable.Ofthefourmembers,he’stheoneIknowtheleastabout.
“I’mJenny,”Isay,scramblingtofillthesilence.“We’venevermetformally.I’maclassmateofJaewoo’s.”
“Jaewoo’sneverbroughtaclassmatetothestudiobefore.Youmustbespecialtohim.”
Usuallysuchkindwordswouldbeaccompaniedwithasmile,butSun’sexpressiongivesnothingaway.
“He’sbeenagoodfriendtome,”Isaycarefully.“ItransferredtoSAAfromaschoolinLAbecauseofafamilysituation.Itwouldhavebeenhardtoadjusttoanewschool,ifitweren’tforhim.”
“Jaewoo’sagoodkid.Responsible,kindhearted,besidesbeingincrediblytalented.”
Inodvigorously.
“Hemeanssomuchtoalotofpeople,”Suncontinues,“notjusttohisfamily,ofcourse,buttoeveryonehereatJoah.Hestartedtrainingatthecompanywhenhewastwelveyearsold.It’sbeendifficultforhim,awayfromhisfamilyforallthoseyears.Buthekeptonworkinghard.He’dspendhoursinthestudiotraininghisbodyandvoice.
“Everythinghehasnow,he’searnedthroughhardworkanddedication.He’sinagoodplace,andhistalentwillonlybringhimmoreopportunities,bringhimmorefanswhowillsupporthim.Hehasabrightfutureaheadofhim.Itwouldbeashameifhelostitallnow.
“Andhecould,ifhe’snotcareful.Itonlytakesonemistake.”
Icanhardlybreathe;it’slikemywholebodyhasfrozenover.
“AfewmonthsinKorea,”Sunsays.“Whatafuntimeforyou,anadventure.It’llbeagoodmemorywhenyoureturnhome.”
Standing,henodsatme.“XOXOwasmeanttorecordaradioshowtoday,didyouknow?ButwehadtocancelbecauseJaewoosaidhecouldn’tmakeit.Howodd,thathe’dbackoutofsomethingwe’dscheduledweeksinadvance.Ihavetogomakeapologiesonbehalfofthegroup.Ofcoursethat’smyjobastheleader,toprotectthemembers.I’llalwaysprotectthem,evenfromthemselves.”
BythetimeJaewooreturns,Sunhasleft.Ifollowhimtowherehe’slaidoutthetakeoutfoodonatableinthekitchen.He’sorderedeverythingI’daskedfor:jjajangmyeon,achocolate-fudgesundae,andbothbreakfastanddessertwafflesbecausehewasn’tsurewhichkindsIwanted.
Afewtraineeswalkinandjoinusforthemeal.Ilistenandlaughandpretendlikeeverything’sfine.
Afterward,Jaewoowalksmetothelobby.
“Thanksforcomingbytoday,”hesays.“Itwasgoodtoseeyou.SorryIhaven’tbeenaround—”
“Jaewoo,”Iinterrupt,Sun’swordsstillringinginmymind.“Idon’twantyouto…passupopportunitiesbecauseyou,Idon’tknow,thinkyou’rebeingabadboyfriend.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Liketoday.Youshouldhavegonetotheradioshow.”
Hefrowns.“Howdoyouknowaboutthat?”
“Ijustdon’twantyouto…toriskyourcareerbecauseofme.”
“Whatareyou…that’snot…”
Hereachesformeandthenrealizingwhathe’sdoing,dropshishand.Acrossthelobby,thereceptionistsarewatchingus.Alookoffrustrationpassesoverhisface.“Idon’tknowwhatthisisabout,butyoudon’thavetoworryaboutmy…career.IknowwhatI’mdoing.IknowwhatIwant.”
MyheartisracingandIfeelonthevergeoftears.“I’lltextyouwhenIgetbacktothedorms,okay?”
Hewatchesmeasecond,andthenfinallynods.“Okay.”
Ileavebeforehesaysanythingmore,catchingacabandcryingthewholewaybacktothedorms.Thirty-Four
Aftertakingalong,hotshower,ItextJaewooonthewaybacktomyroom.Sorryforleavinglikethat.Ihadagreattimewithyoutoday.
Jaewoorespondsimmediately.Don’tworryaboutit.Thanksfortextingmethatyougotbacksafe.
Forthenextfewweeks,Jaewooismoreattentivethanusual,constantlycheckingin,sendingmehisscheduleeverymorning,andcallingmeatnight.ItrytoputtheconversationIhadwithSunoutofmyhead,butitworriesmetothinkJaewooismessinguphisownopportunitiesbecauseofme.IknowthatI’vecanceledpracticesessionstobewithhim.It’sjustthatwiththeshowcaseandJaewoo’spackedschedule,IfeellikeI’mhavingtochoosebetweenJaewooandmyfuturemoreandmoreandIfeel…overwhelmed.
Sincemycelloinstructoratschoolhastospreadhertimebetweenstudents,IscheduleaprivatelessonwithEunbiovervideo.Afterplayingmysoloforher—“Vocalise”bytheRussiancomposerSergeiRachmaninoff—Ilistenasshemakescorrectionsandtellsmewhichpartsneedabitmorefinessing.
Asourlessonisfinishingup,shesays,“BeforeIletyougo,IwantedtotellyouaboutanemailIgotthismorning.TheLAPhilharmonicisinterestedinfeaturingsoloistsfromthelocalhighschools.It’sbyinvitationonlyandwassentouttoalltheteachersinthearea.TheauditionisthelastSaturdayofJune.”
That’saweekaftertheshowcase.
“Iwashopingtoenteryou,”Eunbisays,herenthusiasmevidentthroughthescreen.“Ireallythinkyoushouldcome.It’sagreatopportunity.Jenny,issomethingthematter?”
“No,I—”Ipasteasmileonmyface.“Thankyoufortellingme.CanIhavesometimetothinkaboutit?”
Thatnightatdinner,SoriandAngelanoticemylackofappetite.
“What’swrong,Jenny?”Angelaasks.“Tteok-bokki’syourfavorite.”
We’rebackattheKoreanrestaurantoutsideSAA’smaingate,sharingahotplateofthespicycylinderricecakes.
WhenItellthemwhatEunbisaid,they’requietforafewseconds.
ThenSoriasks,“Aregoingtodoit?”
“I’dhavetoleaveSeoulamonthearly.”
“Butit’s,like,theopportunityofalifetime.”
“Idon’thavetodothePhilharmonicaslongastheshowcasegoeswell.”Thoughit’snotthesame.Asoloperformanceattheshowcasewillbegreatformyresume,butaspotontheLAPhilharmonicfortheentiresummer?Thatisanopportunityofalifetime.
“Isit’causeofJaewoo?”Angelaaskssoftly.
AndIknowwhatshe’sasking.IsitbecauseIdon’twanttoleavehim?
Onlyafewweeksago,ItoldhimIdidn’twanthimtopassuponopportunitiesbecauseofme.Shouldn’tIsaythesameformyself?
Sighing,Ireachformywallettopay.
“What’sthat?”Angelaasks.
Ifollowherfingertowhereshe’spointingatasmallcornerofplasticpeekingoutfromoneofthewallet’sinnerpockets.
Ipulloutthestickerphoto,theoneJaewooandItookintheboothbackinNovember.IplaceitatthecenterofthetableandAngelaandSoricrowdaroundit.
“OhmyGod,it’syouandJaewoo!”Angelaexclaims.
“Wherewasthistaken?”Soriasks.
“InLA.”
“Andyoukeepitinyourwallet?”Angelabeams.“Howcute!”
“Emo!”aloudvoiceshoutsfrombehindus,callingtherestaurantworker.Startled,IlookuptoseeJinaandafriendofherssittingtwotablesdown.I’dbeensocaughtupinmyownhead,Ihadn’tbeenpayingattentiontomysurroundings.
ButifJinaheardanyofourconversation,shedoesn’tshowit,orderingaplateoftteok-bokkiforhertable.
“DoesJaewoohavethissamephotograph?”Angelaasks.“Don’tstickerphotosgetprintedinpairs?”
“TheprinterofthemachinebrokewhenprintingourphotossoI’mtheonlyonewithaphysicalcopy.Whichremindsme,Ishouldsendittohimagain.”
Ihoverthecameraoverthestickerphoto.AsIpresscapture,atextmessageappears.
Areyoufree?I’mparkedbehindthelibrary.
“It’sJaewoo,”Isay,grabbingthephotofromthetableandstuffingitintomypocket.“Iwasn’texpectingtoseehimthisweek.He’sbeensobusy…”
“Didyouforget?”Soriasks.“Ibookedoneofthepracticeroomsforourrehearsal.”
Dammit.Iforgot.“Canwereschedule?”
“Areyouserious?Youknowhowdifficultitistosecurepracticerooms.”
“Don’tbemad,Sori-yah,”Angelaattemptstointercede.“JennyhardlyevergetstospendtimewithJaewoo.”
“God,thisisremindingsomuchlikehowitwaswithNathaniel.You’renothisbeckandcallgirl,youknow?Youdon’thavetodropeverythingjustbecausehecomesaround.”
“He’stheonewiththeschedule,”Isaydefensively.
“Youhaveascheduletoo.Weneedtopracticeorwewon’tbereadyfortheshowcase.Ithoughtyousaidyouneededsomethinguniquetostandoutinyourportfolio.Areyoureallygoingtoblowyourchancesofafuture,along-termone,foraguywhocannever,andImeannever,putyoufirst?”
Sori’svoicebreaksonthelastsentence,hereyesneverleavingmine.Iknowpartofherfrustrationcomesfromherconcernforme,butalsoapartofitisstemsfromherhistorywithNathaniel.
“It’sokay,”Angelasayssoftly.“When’sthenexttimeyou’llgetthischance?Youshouldgo,yeah?Everymomentisprecious.”IgiveSorianapologeticlookandthengetupfromthetable.
GuiltgnawsatmeforabandoningSoriasIrunthroughtheschoolgatesandacrossthelawntowardthelibrary.She’snotwrong.Ishouldbepracticingfortheshowcase,sinceagreatperformancewillhelpmyportfoliostandoutfromalltheothersapplyingtomusicschoolsnextyear.That’swhatIshouldbethinkingabout,nextyear,myfuture,notthismoment,runningtowardaboywhoIknowcannevertrulybemine.ButIcan’thelpmyself,wehardlygettoseeeachotherasitis,andaftertheshowcase,I’llonlyhaveamonthleftinSeoul.Ineedtotakeadvantageofeverymomentwecangrabtogether.
Jaewoo’scarisparkedwherehesaiditwas,rightatthecurbofthestreetbehindthelibrary.ThepassengerdoorisunlockedandIjumpinside.He’salreadyfacingme,awarmsmileonhisface.Iflingmyselfacrosstheconsoleandkisshimsoundlyonthelips.
HelaughswhenIreleasehim.“It’sgoodtoseeyoutoo.”
“Howlongdoyouhave?”
Hegrimaces.“Notlong.We’refilminganepisodeofCatchMeIfYouCanthisweekend.WealreadyfilmedtheSeoulportion,butwe’releavingsoontofilmtherest.IfIheadoutinahalfhour,Ishouldmakeitintime.”
Adeliveryvandrivesclosebyusdownthestreet,honkingatafewjaywalkingstudents.
“Doyouthinkwe’retooexposedhere?”Iask.
“Yeah.”Heshiftsthegearintodrive.WetakeafewsideroadstoasmallparkinggaragewhereJaewooleaveshiscar,grabbingaballcapoutofthebackseat.
Thestreetoutsidetheparkinggarageisempty,thefewopenbusinessesachickenshop,abeautystore,andthreekaraokeplaceswithbrightneonsigns.
JaewooandIlookateachother,clearlyhavingthesameidea.
Wepickoneatrandomandgodownaflightofstairsintothebasementofthebuilding.It’sabouthalfthesizeasUncleJay’splace,withsixsmallroomsoneithersideofapoorlylithall,overseenbyacrone-likewomansittingonalowstoolwatchingaK-drama.
Shegivesusanarrow-eyedonce-overasJaewoohandsovercash,payingforanhourintheroomeventhoughwehavelessthanthirtyminutes.
OnceinourroomJaewootakesoffhisbaseballcapandpicksupthecontrollertoqueueinafewsongs.Iglanceatthedoor,wherethere’sasmallwindow,glazedoverfromageanddebris.Thenthefirstofthesongsbegins,andIdon’tknowwhomovesfirstbutwe’resuddenlyineachother’sarms,kissinglikewecan’tgetenoughofeachother.Thebacksofmykneeshittheedgeoftheseatandwebreakapartonlyformetoscootontothefauxleather,withJaewooclimbingoverme.
Slowlyhelowershisbody,watchingmeclosely,tomakesurethisisokay.
Inod,almostimperceptibly,bendingmyarmtowrapmyhandaroundhisforearm.Hismusclesaretautasheholdsthemajorityofhisweightoffme.Iclosemyeyesjustashislipsreachmine,andthey’resoft,andgentle,andachinglysweet.Everythingthatwasrigidandnervousinsidememeltswiththetouchofhislips.
Themusiche’dqueuedupearliertransitionsintoanothersongasIkisshimback,abitmoreaggressively,movingmyarmstocirclehisneck,mylegsgrippinghiswaist.Hishandstrembleasheunbuttonsmyshirt,whileIpullhisshirtfromhiswaistband.
Whenhisfingersbrushagainstmyribcage,Igasp,andhiseyesimmediatelyflittomine.“Areyouallright?”heasks.“Isthisokay?”
Thisisthefarthestwe’veevergone,andthoughI’mnervous,theansweris“Yes,”asIreachforhim.“Yes.”
Wedon’tstopuntilwerealizeit’ssilentintheroom,thesongsonthequeuehavingrunout.
Ilooktothemonitortoseethetimerdisplays29:00minutes.
“Weshouldgo,”Isay,sittingup.Mywholefaceisflushed.He’snobetter.
“Icouldbelate,”hesayswithagroan.“I’lljustbelate.”
Iedgeofftheseatandstand.“Idon’twantyoutobelate.Andalso…”Iblush,“Iwantmoretime,forthis,forus.”
“Yeah.”Hejoinsme,acrookedsmileonhislips.“Idotoo.”
Weeachtidyuptheotherperson.HebuttonsmyshirtandIsmoothdownhishairandputonhiscap,flippingitforwardsothatthebillshadowshiseyes.
Outside,thekaraokeroomownerinspectsusclosely,butwemustpassthetestbecauseshedoesn’tsayanything.
Fiveminuteslater,Jaewoodropsmeoffoutsidemydorm.
Inmyroom,Sori’snotbackyet.Itrytodomyhistoryhomework,butit’shardtoconcentrate,replayingthosemomentswithJaewoooverandoveragain.
WhenSoridoesfinallyshowup,shedoesn’tsayawordtome,sittingatherdeskandputtinginherearbuds.
Ireallywanttotalktoher,toprocesswhathappened,butshe’sgivingoffscaryvibes.Atten,sheleavesherdeskandshutsoffthelight.Facingthewall,shegoestosleep.Thirty-Five
InthefollowingweeksIpourmyselfintopracticingfortheshowcase,whichincludesextraorchestrarehearsalsandhourswithSoritryingtonaildownourcollaborativeduet.We’veperfectedallthetechnicalaspectsofthepiece,butwhenourrespectiveadvisors—myorchestradirectorandherdanceinstructor—cometocritiqueourperformance,bothpointoutthesameglaringtruth:we’renotinharmony.Whichisn’tsurprising.It’sdifficulttobeinharmonywhenoneofusisnotspeakingtotheother.
I’mwalkingacrossthequadtheSaturdaybeforetheshowcase,whenafamiliarvoicecallsoutmyname.
Iturn.“Mom?”Ittakesmeamomenttoregisterthatshe’sactuallyhere,oncampus.Forthethree-and-a-halfmonthsI’vebeenatSAA,shehasn’tvisited.Iknowshe’sbeenbusy,butIwishshe’dfoundtimetovisitatleastonce.
Still,she’sherenow.Iwalkover,smiling.“Whendidyouarrive?Youshouldhavetextedmeyouwerecoming.”
“Jenny,weneedtotalk.”Myheartdropsintomystomach.“Istheresomeplacequietwecansit?”
“Therearetablesoutsidethelibrary.”Ileadhertoatablethatfacesthequad,shadedbyalargetree.“IusuallysitherewhenIhavestudyhall,especiallynowthatit’swarmer.”
Sheperchesattheveryedgeofthecircularseat.
“CanIgetyouanything?”Iask.“There’sacoffeevendingmachine—”
“Whydidn’tyoutellmeabouttheopportunitytoplaywiththePhilharmonic?”
Iblanch.Eunbimusthavetoldher.Ihadn’tbecauseIwasstillholdingoutthattheshowcasewouldgosowellthatIwouldn’tneedthePhilharmonic.IcouldspendonelastmonthinSeoul,asplanned.
Momwatchesme,waitingforananswer.
“Ididn’tthinkitwaspossible,”Ilie.“Schooldoesn’tendforanothermonth.”
“Isitbecauseyouhaveaboyfriend?”
Imustlookstartledbecauseshesays,“Yourhalmeoniletitslipbyaccident.”Standing,shebrushesimaginarydirtoffherskirt.“IalreadyspoketoyourteachershereatSAA,andtheysaidyoucantakeyourfinalsonline.AndonceyouturninyourEnglishandhistorypapers,you’llhavemetalltherequirementsforLACHSA.YoucanleaveSeoulasearlyasnextweek,intimetoauditionforthePhilharmonic.”
Nextweek?“But—butwhatabouttheshowcase?”
“TheshowcaseisnextFriday,isn’tit?Yourreturnflightisn’tuntilthefollowingSunday.”
Igapeather.“Youalreadyboughtthetickets?”
“Yes.You’lldotheshowcase,whichEunbisayswillbepivotalforyourportfolio,andthenleave,likeIsaid.”
Ican’tbelievethisishappening.TodayisSaturday.IhavealittleoveraweekinSeoul,inKorea.
“Ican’tjustleave,”Isay.“Halmeonistillhasn’thadhersurgeryyet.”
“Don’tmakethatanexcuse,”shesayssharply.“She’snotyourmother,she’smine.”
“Thenwhyaren’tyouspendingmoretimewithher?”IthinkofHalmeoni,thelastfewtimesI’vevisitedher,thesadnessinhereyes.“Shemissesyou.”
Imissyou.
“Ididn’tcomeheretoarguewithyou.Icametotellyouwhatourplansaremovingforward.”
“Whatyourplansareforme.”I’mgettingallmixedup,myemotionsmakingmeraisemyvoice.Mymotherlooksaround,grimacingattheattentionwe’rereceiving.“You’renotevenaskingmewhatIwant.”
“Whatdoyouwant?”
“IwanttostayinKorea.”
Shenarrowshereyes.“Becauseofaboyfriend?”
“BecauseIloveithere.Ihavealifehere.Friends.”Family,thoughIdon’tsaythat.
“Jenny.”Mymomsighs,andshegenuinelysoundstired.“Don’tjeopardizeyourfuturebecauseofafewwonderfulmonthsinSeoul.Iunderstandhownewexperiencescanfeelexciting,butthey’rejusttemporary.Don’tprioritizeshort-termmomentsoverlong-termgoals.Iknowyou’reunhappynow,butonceyou’rebackhomeinLA,you’llseeitwasallforthebest.”
IracetomydormroomandcallJaewootheminutemymomleaves.
Hedoesn’tpickup,soItexthim.
Whereareyou?Ineedtotalk.
Hetextsbackimmediately,whichmeanshesawmycallbutcouldn’tanswer:Sorry,Ihaveatapinginafewminutes.I’llcallyoulatertonight.
Atsix,Itext:Whenareyoucalling?
Atseven,heanswers:I’msorry.We’rebeingrushedtoanotherevent.Icanstillcallyouthough,whenit’sover.Itmightbelate.
It’sfine.I’mokay,Itextback.Idon’twanthimtoworry.Yet,evenasIsendthetext,tearsstartformingatthecornersofmyeyes.
Ateight,Ihearthesoundofbuttonsbeingpressedandthedoorunlocking.Lightfromthehallwayfiltersintotheroom,whereSoristandsbacklit.
“Jenny?”shesays,flickingonthelightswitch.“Whyareyousittinginthedark?”
Catchingsightofmyface,shedropsherbagsonthefloorandhurriestomybed.Shegathersmeintoherarms,asifwehadn’tbeennotspeakingforweeks,asifnoneofthatmattersanymore.“I’msorry.I’vebeensuchabrat.Thismustbesohardforyou.ItwashardformeandNathaniel,butIknewwhattoexpect.”
ShethinksI’mcryingoverJaewoo,andIam,partly,butit’snotjustthat
Shegentlypushesbackmyshoulders,lookingmeintheeyes.“Weneedtogetyououtofthisroom,”shesays.
Inod.Rightnow,I’ddoanythingtochaseawaythesefeelings.
“HowdoyoufeelaboutgoingtoaK-popconcert?”
Isitconsideredcheatingifyougototheconcertofaboybandthat’snottheidolgroupyourboyfriendbelongsto?
ThisisnotaquestionIeverthoughtIwouldaskmyself.YethereIstand,outsideaconcertvenue,staringupattheposterofninebeautifulboys.
Theirgroupiscalled95Dor95theDream,whichapparentlystandsfor9High-FivetheDream.
“I’veseenthembefore,”Isay.“AtEBC.Theywereinthelobby.”
“Arethereanythatcatchyoureye?”Soriasks,herexpressionserious.
Ipointtotheoneinthemiddle,whoofthenine,looksthemostlikesomeoneImightmeetonthestreet.“He’sprettycute.”
“JoJisoo,”Sorisays.“HeusedtobeatraineeatJoah,butthenswitchedcompaniesanddebutedwith95Dastheiryoungestmember.He’scute,buthe’snotmyfavorite.Him.”Shepointstotheguysecondfromtherightwithredhair.“Jun-oppa.Ilovehim.”
Iturntostareather.Soriusuallylooksgorgeous,buttonight,she’sgoneallout.Herhairisinahighponytailthatswingswhenshewalks,plusaleatherbustierandvinyljoggers.
“Youlovehim,”Irepeat.Justtobeclear.She’sneversaidthisaboutNathaniel,whowasheractualboyfriend.
“Yes,Ilovehim.”Shesaysthewordswithoutinflection,likeshereallymeansit.And…Iguesswhenyou’reafan,youreallydomeanit.
Iturnbacktotheposter,whereJoJisoolooksatmeasif,withhim,Ireallycanhigh-fivemydreams.“ThenIloveJisoo.”
WhenIturnbacktoSori,shegivesmeasinglenod.“Okay.”
Webuylightsticksatthemerchboothinsidethestadium.Onlythen,outfittedproperly,doweheadintothearena,whichisalreadypackedtotherafters.Sori’spulledsomestringssoour“seats”aren’tseatsatallbutaccesstothestandingfloorinoneofthesectionsnexttothestage.Theconcerthasn’tstartedyet,butmusicblaststhroughthespeakers.Oneithersideofthestagearehugescreensshowingclipsfromtheband’smusicvideos.Besideme,SoriwavesherlightstickwheneverJun’sfaceappears,evenifonlyforaquicksecond.
At9:05thelightsdimandachantrisesupfromthecrowd.
“Nine!Five!Dream!Nine!Five!Dream!Nine!Five!Dream!”
Iturnaroundinacompletecircle,gazingupattheseaofcolorsinthestadium,asthelightsticks,synchronizedandcontrolledbackstage,changefromwhitetopinktobabyblue.
Thenthestageeruptswithfireandallninemembersofthebandappear,asifbymagic,thoughprobablyfromaliftbeneaththestagefloor.ThemusicstartsandIrecognizethesongfromwhentheyperformeditatMusicNet.ThechoreographytakesoverandIgetlostinthetotal,all-encompassingexperience.
Idon’tre-emergeuntiltwohourslater,when95theDreamperformstheirlastsong,calledbackontothestagebythecrowdforanencoreperformance.
“Thatwasincredible!”IsayasSoriandIstumbleoutofthestadiumintothehumidnight.Myheartisstillracing,andit’slikeIcanstillfeelthebeatofthemusicvibratingbeneathmyfeet.
PressingclosertoSori,Iconfess,“IthinkyoumightbethebestfriendI’veeverhad.I’mgladyou’remyroommate.”
“Metoo,”shegushes.“I’mgladyou’remyroommate.I’mgoingtomissyousomuchwhenyougobacktotheStates.”
“Iloveyou,Sori.MorethanJoJisoo.”
“Iloveyou,Jenny!”Shepauses.“NotasmuchasOppa,butclose.”Thirty-Six
Onthemorningoftheshowcase,IreceiveatextfromJaewoo.Forthepastcoupleofdays,he’dbeenpromotinginJapan,andthoughwe’vebeentextingeveryday,it’sbeensporadic,onlyaquick“goodnight.”
Onmywaybacknow,butprobablywon’tgettotheschooluntilrightbeforetheshowcasestarts.IfIdon’tgettosayitinperson,you’vegotthis!
GiTaekandAngelaareintheroom,havingsleptoverthenightbefore,GiTaekandAngelainSori’sbedandSoriandmeinmine.ItoldthemaboutleavingKoreaearlierthanplannedandthey’dbeenattachedtomelikebarnaclessince.
“Can’tyoutryconvincingyourmomagain?”GiTaekasks.
“Youdon’tknowmymom.Whenshethinksshe’sintheright,there’snoconvincingherotherwise.”
“WhatwasJaewoo’sreaction?”Angelaasksassherollsoneofmyshirtsinatightbundle,handingitovertoGiTaekwholinesitupalongsideothersinmysuitcase.
Idon’trespondimmediately,insteadtakingbooksdownfrommyshelfandplacingtheminabox.I’llmailthese,alongwithmyheavieritems,backtotheStates.
“Youhaven’ttoldhimyet,haveyou?”GiTaeksays.
“He’sbeenpromotinginJapan.Ididn’twantto…worryhim.”
“Jenny,yourboyfriendneedstoknowyou’releavingthecountrytwodaysafterhegetsback.”
“I’lltellhim,”Isay.“Aftertheshowcase.Ijustdon’twantittoruintonight.”
Thekeypadoutsidethedoorsounds,andSoricomesinsidecarryingabagofSubwaysandwiches.Shedistributesonetoeachofusinturn,thensitsdownatherdesk,spinningtofaceme.
“DidKimJinasayanythingtoyou?”
Ifrown.Ihaven’tthoughtaboutJinainalongtime.Onceourlittlefriendgroupformed,she’dleftusmostlyalone.Bulliesdon’tlikeadifficulttarget.
“No,why?”
“Someonetoldmeshewasinthebathroom,talkingcrap.Notexactlysureaboutwhat.”
“Whydogirlsliketogossipinbathrooms?”GiTaekasks,pluckingoutthetomatoesinhissandwich.
“Idon’t,”Angelasays.“Iusetherestroomforadifferentkindofcrap.”
“Angela!”weallsaytogether.
“Hmm…”Soridrinksdietsodafromhereco-strawwhileslowlyspinningaroundinherchair.“Aslongaswecankeepaneyeonherandsquashanyrumorsshestarts,itshouldbefine.”
“NoonehurtsmyJenny!”Angelashouts,reachingintomyunderweardrawer.
“Angela,youdon’thavetofoldthose,”Isay.
“Iguessthat’soneproaboutgoingbacktotheStates,”GiTaekmusesaloud.“Youdon’thavetoworryaboutwakinguptoafront-pagearticleonBulletin.”
WealllaughuneasilyandSorishakesherhead.“I’msureit’sfine.”
Anhourbeforetheshowcase,Isliponmyblackwide-leggedjumpsuit.It’smyfavoriteoutfittowearforperformancesorrecitalswhenblackisauniformrequirement.Thewide-legpants,wornwithheels,givetheillusionofaskirtwhenIwalk.Andmostimportant,Idon’thavetoworryaboutflashingtheaudiencewhenIhavetotuckmycellobetweenmyknees.Tocompletetheoutfit,Iwearjustoneaccessory—aredribbon,agiftfrommyfather.WhenIwaslittle,heusedtotiemyhairupwithit,buttonightIwrapitaroundmywrist,endoverend,likeagoodluckcharm.
Theorchestraopensuptheshowcase,soIheadoutbeforeSoriandtheothers.Alreadythedoorstothemusichallareopentothepublicandpeoplecanbeseenstreamingfromthegatesacrossthelawn.IscanthecrowdforMomandHalmeoni,butIdon’tseethem.
“Eonni!”
Ayounggirlcallsacrossthelawn,andthoughthetermcouldliterallyaddressany“oldersister,”Iturntowardthevoice.
Jaewoo’syoungersisterracesacrossthelawn,stoppingshortofcollidingwithme.
“Joori,”Isay.“Hi!”IlookbehindhertowhereJaewoo’smomapproachesandbowtogreether.“DidyoucometoseeJaewoo?That’ssoniceofyou.”
“WedidcometoseeJaewoo…butalsoyou!”Joorishouts.“Jaewoosaysyou’reperformingthreetimes!”Sheholdsuptheprogram,wheremynameisindeedlistedthreetimes,amongthecellosectionoftheorchestra,nexttoSori’snameasaduet,andthenasasoloisttowardtheendoftheprogram.
“Areyourparentshere?”Jaewoo’smotherasks.
“It’sjustmymomandme,”Isay,“andsheshouldbeheresoon,ifshe’snotalreadyinside.She’sbringingmyhalmeoni.”
“Oh,yes.Jaewoomentionedyou’reclosewithher.”
“Yes.”Ismile,thenoffer,“She’sscheduledforsurgerysoon.”
“Howwonderful!”Jaewoo’smothersays.“Yourmothermustbesorelieved.”
“I—yeah.”Ihadn’tthoughtofthat.
I’vethoughtabouthowHalmeonifeelsaboutMomandhowIfeelabouther,butI’veneverthoughtabouthowMomfeels.It’sjustthatsheneverseemstohaveanyfeelings,whichIguessisunfair.She’sadaughtertoo.
MaybeIcanconvincehertoletmestayinKoreaanothermonth.Ididn’ttrybecauseIknewhow’dsheanswer.Butmaybeit’llbedifferentifItellher,honestly,howIfeel—thatthisisthehappiestI’vebeeninalongtimeandIfeelrejuvenated,abettermusician,abetterperson.
I’vedecided.Aftertheshowcase,I’mgoingtotalktoher.
Beaming,IbowtoJaewoo’smom.“Seeyouinside!”SheandJoorismileandwavemeoff.
Behindtheauditorium,wheretheorchestrastudentsaremovingtheirinstrumentstobackstage,IcatchupwithNora,mystandpartner.She’sbroughtmycellofromthemusicroomalongwithhers.
“Thanks,”Isay,retrievingit.
Weheadinside,movingonstagefromtherightwings,wherestagehandshavealreadysetupthechairsandstandsinahalfcircle,withtheconductor’spodiumfrontandcenter.
Settledinourseats,theconductorhasthefirstchairoboeplayanAnote,andwealltuneourinstrumentstomatchhers.
Muffledthroughtheclosedcurtains,wecanhearthesoundsofpeopleintheauditorium,theirvoicesaloudmurmur.
Forthehundredthtime,Norareachesouttofiddlewiththemusic.Thensilencedescends.Everyonesitsalittlestraighterintheirseats.Thecurtainparts,andJaewooandNathanielwalkontothestage.
I’msupposedtokeepmyeyesontheconductor,butIcan’thelpgazingafterJaewoo.He’swearingasuitperfectlytailoredtohisleanbody,withathintieandclassicblackleathershoes.He’slethishairgrowlongerinthepastfewweeksandthoughit’smostlysweptbackfromhisface,onestrandislefttodanglerakishlyoverhiseyes.
“Jenny,”NorahissesandIwrenchmygazefromJaewoo,focusingontheconductorwho’slightlytappinghisbatonagainstthepodium.
Frombehindhim,NathanielandJaewoobegintheiropeningwords,welcomingtheaudienceandhighlightingafewkeystudentsintheensemble.WhenNora’snameismentioned,shestandsandbowstotheaudience.ThoughJaewooandNathanielarereadingfromateleprompter,theirbanterandlightheartednessappearsnatural,theaudiencelaughingattheappropriatemoments.
“Andnow,”Nathanielsays,“theSeoulArtsAcademySymphonicOrchestrawillplayStravinsky’s‘TheFirebird.’”
TheconductorraisesthebatonandNoraandIbothliftourbowstothestrings.
Twentyminuteslater,I’mrushingoffthestage.Ihavethirtyminutesuntilmynextpiece,andinthattimeIhavetochangeanddomyhairandmakeup.
InthehallwayIrunintoSori,whohasmydressinagarmentbag.
“Iwatchedthewholeperformancefromthebackoftheaudience,”shesays.“Youwereincredible.”
“Itwasanensemble,”Isay.“Youcouldn’thavepickedmeout.”
“No,youwereincredible.Acceptmycompliment.”Shehandsoverthegarmentbag.“Twenty-sixminutesandcounting.”
Werushtothebathroom.Wedon’tbotherwiththestalls,strippingdownnexttothesinks.She’swearingheroutfitbeneathherregularclothes,soit’sjustamatterofthrowingthemoffwithamagician’sflourish.Shethenproceedstohelpmeshimmyintomydress,whichisafloor-lengthballgownshe’dhadJoah’sstylistprocurefromthecompanycloset.Whiletheskirtpoofsout,thetopofthedressisfittedtomychest,leavingmyarmsandshouldersbare.Shecarefullygathersupallmyhairandpinsitintoaneatballerina’sbuntomatchherown.Weeachdoourownmakeupandthen,turningtothemirror,westandsidebyside,meinmyredballgownwithrhinestonesdottingtheskirt,herinaredleotardwithasheerskirt,alsofestoonedwithrhinestones.
Welookgood;infact,welookbeautiful.
SlowlySoriraisesherarm,cellphoneinhand,andtakesamirrorselfie.
Wemakeittothestagewithfiveminutestospare.Igrabmycelloandquicklytunebeforehurryingtotheleftwings.
Afterthetrioofviolinistsbeforeusfinishtoloudapplause,thelightsdimandastagehandquicklyrushesoutontothestageandplacesachairandmusicstandtotheleftofthestage.TheapplausequietsasIwalkforward,onehandtightlygrippingtheneckofmycello,theotherholdingupmyskirtsothatIdon’ttrip.
Imakeittothestoolandsitdown,arrangingmydressaroundmebeforeplacingmycelloneatlybetweenmyknees.
“Andnowwehaveouronlyduetoftheprogram.”Nathaniel’svoicecanbeheardannouncingus.“AcollaborationfromtwostudentsfromYearThree.DancemajorMinSoriisatraineeatJoahEntertainment.Sheholdsnationalchampionawardsinrhythmgymnastics,classicaljazz,andspeechanddebate.Thoughcoldlybeautifulontheoutside,ontheinside,she’sabucketofmarshmallows.”
Theaudiencechuckles,andonthefarside,afewteachersexchangeglances.ApparentlyNathanielhadgoneoffscript.
“Oursecondperformer,”Jaewoosays,hisvoicestrongandwarm,“isclassicalcellistmajorJennyGo,aKoreanAmericantransferstudentfromLACHSA.”Fromthisvantage,Icanseetheteleprompter.Itendsthere,buthecontinuesspeaking.“Jennyisalsoanhonorsstudent,alovinggranddaughter,andaphenomenaldancer,thoughshemightdisagree.”Thecrowdlaughsappreciatively,withoneloudguffawfromtheback,presumablyGiTaek.
“She’splanningonattendingmusicschoolaftergraduation,whereshe’llcontinuetogrowherincredibletalentandsharehermusicwithothers.”
Onthesidelines,IcanseetheteacherstryingtogetJaewoo’sattention,buthecontinues,hisvoiceresonatingthroughouttheauditorium.“ThoughhertimeatSAAhasbeenshort,she’sleftalastingimpressiononmanyofus,especiallythoseofuswhomshe’dcallherfriends.”
Agentlespotlightfindsmeonthestage.IdragmygazeawayfromJaewooandtakeadeepbreath.Ipressmylefthandtothefingerboardandbringmybowlevelwiththestrings.
AsIbegintoplayanotherspotlightmaterializesrightofthestage,andIknowwiththemurmuringoftheaudience,thatSorihasappeared.Sheswaysandleapstothesoundofthemusic,whichisaclassicalarrangementofapopularK-popsong.It’sablendofbothofourinterests,atruecollaboration.Iputeverythingintotheperformancebecauseit’snotjustforme,butforGiTaekandAngela,whosefriendshipshavemeanttheworldtome,andformymotherandHalmeonilisteningsomewhereintheaudience,andformyfather,whocan’tbehereasheshouldbe,butstillishere,becauseIam.
IplayforJaewoo,who,whileeveryonewatches,enrapturedbySori’smovement,nevertakeshiseyesoffme.
AndlastlyforSori,whointheseshortfewmonthshasbecomemyverybestfriend.
Afterthesongends,thehallexplodeswiththunderousapplause.
“Jaewoo?”Nathanielsays.“Wasn’tthatsomethingelse?Hello,Jaewoo?Comein,BaeJaewoo.”
“Oh,sorry,”Jaewoosays,startled,andtheaudiencelaughs.
IpickupmycelloandwalktowardSori.Shemeetsmehalfway,atthecenterofthestage.Shetakesmyhand,squeezing,andweturntotheaudiencetogetherandbow,lettingtheroaroftheirapplausewashoverus.Then,stillholdinghands,werushoffstage,laughterinourthroats,adrenalinerushingthroughourveins.
Backstage,IbarelyhavetimetoplacemycelloonitsstandbeforeSorigrabsmeinafiercehug.“Wedidit!Wereallydidit!”
Ihugherback,justastightly.“Thankyou.Icouldn’thavedoneitwithoutyou.”
Weholdeachotherforafewmoresecondsbeforesheletsgo.“Youhavetogetreadyforyoursolo!”
“Andyouhavetogetreadyforyourgrouproutine.”SheandAngelaarebothperforminginacontemporarygroupnumber.
AsIturntomycello,Ifeelasoftvibrationinthepocketofmydress.Ireachintothevoluminousskirtandpulloutmycellphone.
“Youbroughtyourphoneontothestage?”Sorisays,aghast.
“Iputitinthereasajoke,tobehonest,whenIfoundthepocket,andtotallyforgotaboutit.”Iopenupmyphone.“It’satextfrommymom.”
“Maybeshe’scongratulatingyouontheperformance.”
Ipullupthemessageandstarttoread.
Jenny,I’msosorry.Ihadtoleaveearly.I’vegonetoSeveranceHospitalatSinchon.Halmeoniwastakentoemergency—
Idon’tfinish.Grabbingtheedgeofmyskirt,Irushoutthedoor.Thirty-Seven
Iraceacrosscampus,thevoluminousskirtsoftheballgownmakingitdifficulttosprintfull-out.Pastthegates,Ispotataxithat’sdroppingofflatearrivals,catchingthedoorandslidinginside.Idon’tevenhavemywallet,butthetaxidrivertakespityonme,especiallywhenItellhimmydestination:SeveranceHospitalatSinchon.
HedropsmerightoutsideandIstumblethroughtheautomaticdoors.It’shecticinthelobbybuteveryonestillstopsandstaresatthesuddenarrivalofateenagerinaredballgown.Ipickupmyskirtsandhurrytothenurse’sstation.
“MynameisGoJenny.I’mlookingformygrandmother.Shewasrushedtoemergencysurgery.”
“What’syourgrandmother’sname?”
“KimNaYoung.”
Thenursepicksupatablet,checkingthescreen.“Eighthfloor.Elevatorsareontheleftpastthestation.”
Idon’twaitforhertofinish,reachingformyskirts.Outsidetheelevator,anincomingcallappearsonmyphone.Jaewoo.Iacceptthecalljustasthedoorstotheelevatoropen.
“Jenny?”Jaewoosays,andit’shardtohearhimwiththeroarofmusicinthebackground.“Areyouallright?Wheredidyougo?”
BeforeIcananswer,thecalldropsandtheelevatorarrivesattheeighthfloor.
JustasI’msteppingout,mycellphonepingswithaflurryoftexts,thetopmostfromGiTaek:Jenny,whereareyou?
Atthehospital,Iquicklytypebackandsend.
“GoJenny-ssi?”Awomanintealscrubsstandsbeforeme.“Thenursedownstairscalledandsaidyouwerecomingup.”
Ipocketmyphone.“I’mlookingformyhalmeoni.KimNaYoung.Issheokay?Issheallright?Iwastoldtocomeimmediately.”
Thenurse’seyeswiden.“Oh,yes,she’sfine.Yourhalmeoniisactuallyoutofsurgerynow.”
“She’s…fine?”
MykneesgiveoutandIcollapsetothefloor.Thenursecrouchesdownbesideme,onehandonmyshoulder.“Poorchild,youmusthavebeensofrightened.”
Isniffle.“Issheallowedvisitors?CanIseeher?”
“Yes.Yourmotheriswithher.”
Iletthenursehelpmetomyfeet.
“Room803,”shesaysandInod,takingthelastfewstepsonmyown.Outsidetheroom,Ipause.ThedoorisslightlyajarandIcanhearHalmeoniandMomtalkingsoftlyinside.
IpressmyhandtothedooronlytohesitatewhenIhearasob.Ittakesmeamomenttorealizeit’smymother.She’s…crying,somethingshehasn’tdonesinceDadpassedaway.
“Youdidn’tcome,”Momsays.“Ineededyou,andyoudidn’tcome.”
“Naesaekki,”Halmeoniissaying,“mybaby.Eommaissorry.Ishouldhavebeenthereforyou.Ididwrong.Forgiveme,forgiveme.”
Mymomissobbing,heavingsobs,harderthanI’veeverseenhercry.
“You—Youdidn’thavethemeanstocome,andIdidn’thelpyou.Butit’sbeensohard,Eomma.Ihadnoone.”
“Youhaveme.Youwillalwayshaveme.Andyourdaughter.Yourbeautifuldaughter.”
“I’msoscared,Eomma.IdriveJennytobestrongerbutsometimesIthinkI’mpushingheraway.Ijustwanttoprotecther.”
“LikeIprotectedyou?You’veseenwhataterriblejobIdid.Keepingoutthepeopleyouloveisn’tprotectingthem,Soojung-ah.Lovingthem.Trustingthemwithyourheart.That’sallyoucando.”
Istepawayfromthedoor.
MyphonebuzzesinmypocketforthegazillionthtimeandIfinallytakeitout.Whyaremyfriendstextingmesomuch?I’mgratefulthey’reconcerned,butI’mabitbusy.
GiTaek:Jenny,whyaren’tyouansweringyourphone?
Angela:Areyouokay?
Sori:Whichhospital?
Jaewoo:Icalledtheclinic.I’monmyway.
GiTaek:Jenny,thisisserious.Areyousomewheresafe?
Ifrown.Whatishetalkingabout?Thenaseriesoflinksappearinquicksuccession,sentfromeachofthem.
Angela:“BREAKINGNEWS:K-PopIdolBaeJaewoo’sSecretGirlfriend.”
GiTaek:“XOXO’sBaeJaewooDatingScandal.”
Sori:“BulletinRevealsXOXO’sBaeJaewooinaRelationshipwithClassmate”
Withshakinghands,Iclickonthelastlink.Itjumpstoapopulargossipsite,wherethetoptrendingarticleisthisveryone,completewithahuge,blown-uppictureofJaewooandme.
I’dexpectedtoseeapaparazzishotofoneofthetimesJaewooandIweretogetherinpublic,onthefieldtrip,ourdatetothetheater,orthatafternoonatthenoraebang.Butinsteadit’s…
Thestickerphoto.
UnlikethearticleofNathanielandSori’s,myfaceisn’tblurred,butvisible,ifnotsuperclearduetothequalityofthephoto.
Atextpopsup.
Jaewoo:I’mhere.Whereareyou?
Irushtotheelevator,pressingthebuttonforthegroundfloor.Luckilynoonegetsonanditgoesstraighttothelobby.Thedoorsopentochaos.Securityguardsareyellingasadozenphotographerswithhugecameraspointthematasinglepersonstandingatthecenterofthelobby.
Jaewoo.
Heturnsastheelevatorfullyopens,catchingsightofme,slowlyloweringthephoneheholdstohisear.
Thepaparazzifollowhislineofsightandit’slikethehoundsscentingtheirprey,surgingforward,heldbackonlybythehospitalguards.
Jaewoowalksswiftlyinmydirection.He’sstilldressedinthesuitfromtheshowcase,thoughhistieisloosenedandhishairisamess,asifhe’srunahandthroughitmultipletimes.
Reachingme,hepullsmeintoafiercehug,whichIreturnwithequalforce.Behindus,theelevatorcloses,cuttingoffthenoisefromthelobby.Jaewooreleasesmeonlytopressthebuttonforthehighestfloor.
“Areyouallright?”heasks,hiseyessearchingmine.“Howisshe,yourhalmeoni?”
“She’sgood.Shewasrushedintoemergencysurgery,butitwentwell.”
Hesighswithrelief,leaningagainsttheelevatorwall.
Thenumbersoftheelevatorincreaseasweascend.Twenty-five.Twenty-six.Twenty-seven.
“I’msosorry,”Isayquickly,mywordstumblingout.“Ihadthephotographinmywallet,butImusthavedroppedit.Iwascareless.It’sallmyfault.”
“It’snotyourfault,”Jaewoosays.“Noneofthisisyourfault.”
Theelevatorstops.We’vereachedthetopfloorofthehospital.Jaewootakesmyhandandleadsmetothestairwell,upasingleflight,pushingopenthedoortotherooftop.
Thenightairisbalmy.Adrywindsweepsacrosstheopenspace,catchingtheloosestrandsofhairthathavefallenoutofmybun.
Jaewootakesoffhissuitjacket,andthenloosenshistieentirely,slippingitoverhishead.
Hemovestotheedgeoftheroof,safeguardedbyawallandrailing.Ijoinhim,lookingdowntowherenewsvansarepackedinamongambulancesandothervehicles.
“You’dthinkthey’dhavemorerespect,”Jaewoosays,hisvoicebitter.
“Howdidthepaparazzimanagetoshowupatthehospitalsoquickly?”
“TheywerewaitingattheschoolandfollowedmewhenIleft.Ialmostlostthem—mycabdriverhadabitofadaredevilstreak—buttheycaughtuptousnearthehospital.”
Hedragshisgazefromthescenebelow.“Areyousureyou’reallright?”
“I—”Theanswerisn’tsoeasy.Mymindisablur,myemotionsalltangledup,andthenarealizationhitsme.
“Iwassupposedtoplayasolotonight.”
Jaewoolooksstricken.“There’sstilltimeforyoutodoit.”
“No,”Isay.“Ican’t.”Bynow,theywouldhavepassedovermyslotintheprogramming,andtherewasanintermission—peoplewillhavereadthearticle.MysolowasmyticketintoMSM;nowIhavetogobacktotheStates.ThePhilharmonicismylastchance.“It’sover.”
“Jenny—”
“Whathappensnow?”Iask.
Hemustfollowmytrainofthoughtbecauseheanswers,“Mycompanywillreleaseastatement.”
“They’lldenyit,won’tthey?LikewithSoriandNathaniel.”
“I—I’mnotsure.ButI’lldoeverythingIcantoprotectyou.”
“Don’t,”Isaysharply.Protect.It’sthatwordagain.ButIdon’twantthepeopleIcareabouttoprotectme,notwhenithurtsthem.Jaewoo.Mom.
Jaewoohadbeentakingasteptowardme,buthestopsnow,hisexpressiononeofhurtandconfusion.
“Don’tprotectmeoverthepeopleyoushouldbeprotecting,yourbandmates,yourfamily,yourself.Thinkofthepeoplewhohavebeeninyourlifeinthepast,whowillbeinyourlifeinthefuture.”
“Jenny,youare—”
“I’mleaving,Jaewoo.Intwodays.Lessthanthatnow.”
There’sashortpause,thenhesays,softly,“Whenwereyougoingtotellme?”
AndIknow,suddenly,whatIhavetodo,whatIwastryingsohardnottoaccept.Iamleaving,andevenifIleaveintwodaysoramonthfromnow,theendresultswillbethesame.
Jaewoo’stoogood,he’llneverbreakupwithme,especiallynotafterthisscandal.He’lldoeverythinginhispowertoprotectme.
Ifanyone’sgoingtolookoutforhisbestinterests,andmine,it’llhavetobeme.
“Doesitmatter?”Isaycoolly.“Wewouldhavebrokenupintheend.”
Hewinces.“Isthatright?”
“Jaewoo,therewasareasonittooksolongforustogettogether.Ourlivesaretoodifferent.You’refamous,anidol,andIwanttogotomusicschoolinNewYorkCity.”
Ithinkofmymother’swords,justafewdaysago.Shewasright.Ijustdidn’twanttohearit.“I’mgoingbacktomylife.Youshouldgobacktoyours.”
“Youmakeitsoundsoeasy,”hesaysharshly.
Nowit’smyturntowince.“I’msorryaboutthephotograph.Ifyourcompanycanjustdenyit,aslongasthere’snootherevidence—”
“Anddamn,someoneshouldhavetoldmeourbreakupwasinevitablefromthestart,thenmaybeitwouldn’thurtsomuch.”
“Jaewoo…”
“Ididn’taskyoutobemygirlfriendbecauseIthoughtourrelationshipwouldendinafewmonths.Peopledon’tbeginrelationshipsthinkingthey’llend.”
“No,peopleendrelationshipswhentheyknowtheyshouldhaveneverbeguninthefirstplace.”
“Doyoureallybelievethat?”
No,Iwanttosay.Iwanttotellhimthatthesepasttwomonthswithhim,thesepastfourmonthsinSeoul,withallofourfriends,havebeenwonderful.
ButI’mintoodeep,italreadyfeelslikeI’mtearingoutmyhearttosaythesewords,butIhaveto,becauseI’mleaving,andit’sbettertohurthimnowthantotellhimwhatIreallywanttosay,thatIthinkI’minlovewithhim.
“Yes.”
Thedoortotherooftopopens.
“Jaewoo.”Hismanagerstandssilhouettedbythelightinside.“I’vebeenlookingalloverforyou.Whydidn’tyouansweryourcalls?It’sacircusdownstairs.Securityisgivingusanescortouttheback.Wehavetogo.”
JiSeoknoticesmethen.“It’sbestifyouleavealone.”
Jaewoopicksuphisjacket,wherehe’ddroppeditontheground.Ashepassesbymetowardthedoor,hepauses.Ilookupintohisface,holdingbackmytears.
“Imeanttotellyouearlier,”hesayswithonelastdevastatingsmile,eventhoughIjustbrokehisheartandmine,“youwerebeautifultonight.”
Afewsecondslaterthedoorshutswithabang,andhe’sgone.Thirty-Eight
IneveryK-drama,thepenultimatesceneusuallyinvolvesachase,thethrowingawayofallinhibitionsandfears,whentheheroineandhergreatestloveunite,andalliswellintheworld.
Butnoonecomesrunningthroughtheairporttostopme.
AndonSunday,Iboardtheplaneandflyhome.Thirty-Nine
It’sawonderyoudon’thaveanSNSprofile,GiTaektextsattwointhemorning,whichissixatnightKoreaStandardTimeThoughmaybethat’sagoodthing….
I’vebeenhomeaweekandwouldhavegottenoverthejetlagifitweren’tforthegroupchatGiTaekstartedwithAngelaandSoritheminuteIlandedatLAX.He’dtitledit“FWOJ,”whichstandsfor“FunWithoutJenny.”
Sori:IwouldhurtanyonewhocameforyouonSNS.I’dbeinthecomments,belittlingpeople.
GiTaek:You’dmakethingsworse.
Sori:Howdareyou.
Angelae-laughs:???
Maybeit’sbecauseIdon’thaveanysocialmediaprofilesthatthebacklashfromthescandalhasn’tbeencompletelyawful,atleastonmyend,butalsoitcouldbebecausenooneknowstheidentityofBaeJaewoo’srumoredgirlfriend.Thephotographthatwasreleasedshowsmyface,butmyfeaturesareblurred,andIkindoflooklikeastrangealternateversionofmyselfwho,ifreleasedfromthephoto,willcometomurdermeandtakemyplace.
Anyonewhoknowsmecantellthatit’s,well…me,butotherwisenoneofmypersonalinformationwasreleased,includingmyname.
IthinkapartofitisthatIamaminor,butit’smorethatJoah’slawyersareworkingaroundtheclocktoprotectJaewoo,andbyextensionme.
TheMondayafterthescandalbroke,whileIwassomewhereoverthePacific,JoahreleasedastatementdeclaringthatthemembersofXOXO’sprivateliveswere,exactlythat,private.Itwasahardstance,neitheranadmissionnoradenial.Butthemessagewasclear—Jaewoowouldhavethefullsupportofhiscompany.Iwassurprised,sinceIassumedthey’dcoveritup,likewithNathanielandSori,butmaybeSoriconvincedhermothertosetanewprecedent.
OnXOXO’sofficialSNS,Jaewooreleasedanapologyfortheinconveniencetothehospitalstaffandpatientsthenightthearticlewasreleased,notexplainingwhyhewasthere,butacceptingresponsibilityforanydisturbancehemighthavecaused.Thecommentsbelowhisapologyarefilledwithsupportfromhisfans,condemningthepaparazziforfollowinghimintothehospitalandendangeringhislifebychasinghim.
Thoughthereareafewhostilecomments,callinghimungratefulforhisfame,selfishforhurtingtheband,andahypocritefor“acting”likeaprincebut“behavinglikeapauper.”
Seeingthesecomments,IhaveamindtochannelSoriandleavescathingreplies,butIknow,ultimately,thatwon’thelp.
Sori:It’llcalmdownintime.Anyway,yournewsisboring.DidyouseethenewsthatLeeJaeWonandLeeTaeRaareengaged!Lee-Leecouple!IknewtheirchemistryinRebelHeartwasreal.
Angela:I’msohappyforthem!!!
Me:Youguys,it’s2inthemorninghere.I’mgoingtobed.
Angela:Wemissyou!
Me:Missyoutoo.
Icloseoutofourchat,butinsteadofsleeping,openupabrowseroutofhabit.It’sonlybeenaweek,butImovebyrotememory,clickingonXOXO’sprofilesonalltheirSNSplatformsandcheckingtoseeifthereareanyupdates,andthenloggingontotheirfansitestoseetheirdailyschedules.
Ican’texactlytell,butitseemsthey’rejustaspopularpost-scandalastheywerebefore,ifnotmoreso.XOXOalsoreleasedtheirtourdatesfortheAlltheWorld’saStagetour,kickingoffinSeoulfortwonightsofconcerts,andthentravelingthroughAsia,Europe,andfinally,theUS.
TheyhaveastopinNewYorkCity.
ThesamedayasmyauditionfortheManhattanSchoolofMusic,whichIalreadyhaveplanstoflyoutfor.
Notforthefirsttime,Ichecktheavailabilityoftickets.Butnothing’schangedsincetheysoldoutinthefirsttwenty-fourhours.Theonlyonesleftforpurchasearere-saleticketsatexorbitantprices.
Igroanandflingmyphoneacrossthebed.WhyamIevenlooking?
It’snotlikeI’llgo.
OrmaybeIwill.I’llpurchaseoneoftheticketssofarinthebackyouneedbinocularstoseethestageandI’lljustwatchhimfromafar.ThatseemslikeaveryspecificandcruelpunishmentthatIrightlydeserve.
MyphoneblinkswithamessageandIhurryacrossthebed,knowingitwon’tbefromJaewoo,butstill…hoping.
It’sfromMom:
WevisitedthehospitaltodayandtheysaidHalmeoni’smadeafullrecovery,whichmeansI’llbecominghomeontimeafterall!I’msorry,foralotofthings.IthinkweshouldhavealongtalkwhenIgethome.Iloveyou,Jenny.
Loveyoutoo,Mom
Whyareyouawake?Gotosleep!
Laughing,Idropmyhandtothebedandlookupattheceiling.ItonlytookHalmeonisurvivingamajorsurgeryformymomtoopenup.ShewasonlyalittlebitangrythatIdidn’tgetthespotonthePhilharmonicorchestra,oh,andthatIwasinvolvedinaK-popscandalwithanidol.Luckily,insteadofgettingangryatme,shestartedcallinguphercolleagueswhospecializeinprivacylaw,onlycalmingdownwhenshesawthatJoahhadahandleonthings.
Ourrelationshipisn’tthesameasitwasbeforeDadpassedbutwe’retalking,andit’sastart.
Iclosemyeyes,butIknowI’llhavedifficultysleeping,soIdowhatI’vebeendoingsinceIgotbackfromKorea.IopenmymusicappandpressrepeatonXOXO’salbum.
Theirmusicistheonlythingthatcancalmmeenoughtogotosleep.
Idon’tknowwhyit’sbeensohardtoadjust.
Maybeit’sthejetlag,ormaybeit’sthatImisshim.
Theweekbeforesenioryearstarts,UncleJayandIflyacrossthecountrysothatIcantourEastCoastcolleges.IalsosetupaliveauditionateachschoolIvisit.Icouldhavesetupavideocall,butIreallywantedtoauditioninperson.
UncleJaygenerouslyofferedtocoverthecostsasmy“earlygraduationpresent.”AndsinceMomhasabigcasecomingup,he’stheonetakingme,whichisfineforhimbecause,asheputit,hewantedto“checkoutthekaraokesceneinNewYork’sKoreatown”anyway.
“I’msureit’sexactlylikeLA,”Isay.
“No,no.TheseEastCoastKoreansdothingsdifferently.”
It’sthethirdandlastdayofourtripandwe’resittinghavinglunchatarestaurantthatoverlooksTimesSquare.I’vealreadyvisitedandauditionedfortheBostonschools,andJulliardjustthismorning.IhavetheauditionfortheManhattanSchoolofMusicinanhour,theauditionthatwilldeterminewhetherI’llattendtheschoolI’vebeendreamingofgoingtohalfmylife.
Butit’shardtoconcentrate.
XOXOishere.
InNewYorkCity.
TheywereinEuropeforaweek,andtheyarrivedatJFKsometimeinthepasttwenty-fourhours.IknowbecauseIfollowoneofXOXO’sdancersandsheregularlyupdatesherstatus,whichthefansusetotrackdownthemembers’location.
“Whyaren’tyoueating?”UncleJayasks,tappingmytrayofburgerandfries.“Areyouthatnervous?Youhavenothingtoworryabout.Youcrushedyourauditionsatalltheotherschools.”
He’sright.I’vealreadyreceivedaverbalacceptancefromBerklee.
“I’mnotnervous,”Isay,lettingmygazewanderoutsidethewindowwherehundredsofpeoplemaketheirwayacrossabusyjunction,billboardsflashingabovethem,brighteveninthedaylight.
Onecatchesmyeye.ABroadwayadforthenewesthitmusical.UncleJayandIdidn’thavetimetowatchonethistrip,butwhenI’mbackinNewYorkCity,it’sgoingtothetopofmybucketlist.
Thentheadswitchestoacommercial,withafewpeopleonthestreetstoppingtowatch:XOXOLiveTonightatMadisonSquareGardenfortheAlltheWorld’saStageTour,DoorsOpenat7.
“Isn’tthatthekidyoudated?”
“UncleJay!”Ihiss,lookingquicklyaroundattheotherrestaurantgoers,butnoneofthemarepayingusanyattention.
“IsheperformingintheUSorsomething?”
“HehasaconcertatMadisonSquareGarden.”
UncleJaywhistles.“Damn.Didyoureallymeethiminmykaraokebar?Ishouldhavegottenhimtosignsomething.Thatwouldhavebeengreatforpublicity.”
“Imethimthenightyoutoldmetogetalife.”
“What?”UncleJayhastheaudacitytolookoffended.“Iwouldneversaythat.”
“Itliterallywasthecatalystforallmyinsecurities!”
“Whoops.”Heshrugs.“Sorry.”
WhileIfume,hetakesabiteofhisBLT.Outside,theadbeginstoplayonanotherbillboard.I’mtemptedtotakeoutmyphoneandrecordtheadjustformyself,especiallythepartwhereJaewooappearsonthescreen,withhisnameandpositioninthebandlisted.
Onthestreetbeneaththebillboard,acoupleoftweenshavestoppedintheirtracks,pointingatthescreenandfangirling.
“Soyoutookmysageadvicetoheart,huh?HowmadwouldyoubeifIdiditagain?”
Ilookathimwarily.“Justsayit.”
Heleansbackinthebooth.“It’smoreofastory.”
Isigh.“Aslongit’snotamoviequote.”
“Itwon’ttakethatlong.Youeat,whileItalk.”
Icomply,ifonlybecauseIrefusetowastefood.
“WhenyourdadandIwerearoundyourage,thisnewgirlmovedintotown.”
Inarrowmyeyes,notsureifIwanttohearastoryaboutoneofmyuncle’smanyexes.
“Naw,hearmeout.Shewasanewstudentatourschool,fromSeoul.Reallypretty,andofcourseshewouldn’tgiveyourdadandmethetimeoftheday,somescrappykidsfromLA’sK-town.Igaveupprettyquickly—therewerealotofpeoplewhowantedmyattention.”
Irollmyeyes.
“Butyourfather,hewasdetermined.He’dwriteherlettersandwalkherhomefromschool.Thenhegotsick…”Iremember.Hewasfirstsickincollege,laterhewouldrelapse.“Andsohestartedtopretendhewasn’tinterestedinyourmom….”Hepauses.“We’retalkingaboutyourmom,bytheway.”
Ilaugh,tearsinmyeyes.“Iknow.”
“Butbythen,shewasinlovewithhim.Andsothoughhetriedtopushheraway,shepushedbackevenharder,visitinghiminthehospital,writinghimletters.Afterhegotbetter,theygraduatedandgotmarried,andhadyou,andtheywerehappy.Foralongtime.”
“Imisshim,”Iwhisper.
UncleJaydoesn’thavetosayanything.Hemisseshimtoo.
“You’relikebothyourparents,Jenny.You’restubbornandloyalandgood,andwhenyoulove,youlovewithyourwholeheart.”
Istareatmyuncle,whoisn’tmyfather,orrelatedtomebyblood,butwho’sbeenthereformeeverydayofmylife.
“Whatareyousaying,UncleJay?YouhavetotellmeinJenny-speak.”
“I’msaying,peopledostrangethingstoprotecttheirhearts.Butwhenyou’reafraid,yourheartisclosed,andit’snevertherighttime,butwhenyourheartisopen,andyou’rewillingtobebraveenoughtotakeachance,thetimeisalwaysright.”
“IthinkImadeamistake,UncleJay,andIdon’tknowhowtofixit.”
“That’snottrue.Youknowexactlywhatyouneedtodo.Youjustgotta…go.”
“Jenny,afteryourauditionandreviewingyourportfolio,we’repleasedtoofferyouaverbalacceptanceintotheManhattanSchoolofMusic.”
Igapeattheadmissionsdirector,who’swatchingmewithawarmsmileofunderstanding.I’msureshe’susedtowitnessingasimilarshockedexpressiononthefacesofthestudentsshedelivershappynewsto.Thisistheculminationofallmyhardwork,everythingI’veeverwanted.
“ProfessorTu,ourcelloprofessor,”shecontinues,“istakingafewstudentstodinnerinafewminutes,ifyou’dliketojoinher.”
“I—whattimeisit?”
Sheblinks,glancingatherwristwatch.“It’salittlepastfivethirty.”
“ThenI’dbehonoredtojointheprofessorfordinner.”
ThedinnerisatanItalianrestaurantontheUpperWestSide.It’sservedfamily-style,muchtomyexcitement.I’malreadyinaweofProfessorTu,whobesideshavingtaughtinAsiaandEurope,hasalsobeenamemberofaward-winningensembles.
Thestudentsalsoseemreallycool,especiallythegirlseatednexttomewho’sasophomorestudyingcontemporarycelloandtheboyacrossfromherwhowantstobeacomposer.
Theconversationatdinnerflowsand,honestly,I’dhavelosttrackofthetimeifIwasn’tsoconsciousofit.Sixo’clockpasses,thenseven.Athalfpastseven,I’mchompingatthebit,literallychompingonapieceofgarlicbread.Everyone’shavingagreattime.Thefewstudentswhoareoldenoughareontheirsecondbottleofwine.Whenthewaitercomesover,theprofessoraskstoseeadessertmenu.
“Areyouallright?”Thesophomoregirlhasaconcernedlookonherface.
Istandupabruptly.Alleyesatthetableturntowardme.“I’msorry,”Isay,“butIhavetogo.”
“Ofcourse,Jenny,”ProfessorTusays.“Doyouneedsomeonetoridewithyoubacktoyourhotel?”
“I’mnotgoingbacktomyhotel,”Isay,andIdon’tknowwhatpossessesmetofurtherexplain,butIadd,“I’mgoingtoaK-popconcert.”
“Youshouldhavesaidsooner!”ProfessorTuexclaims.“Concertswaitfornoone.”
“IsitXOXO?”thesophomoregirlasks.“Ilovethem.”
Istareather,thentherestofthem—everyexpressioniseitherwarmorcurious.IrememberIanandthewayhe’dmademefeelasifmyloveforKoreanpopmusicmeantIcouldn’tbeseriousaboutattendingtheManhattanSchoolofMusic.
“Thisisn’t…weird?”Iask.
“Weird?”ProfessorTulooksgenuinelyshocked.“No,whywoulditbe?It’smusicandwe’reallmusicians.You’dbetterhurry.Youdon’twanttobelate!”
“No,you’reright.”Ismileather,thenattherestofthestudentsinturn.“Idon’twanttobelate.”
Irushoutthedoor,wavingmyhandvigorouslyforacab,leapinginsidewhenonepullsover.
Asinglethoughtrepeatsoverandoverinmyhead.
Pleasedon’tletmebetoolate.Forty
TrafficisatstandstilloutsideMadisonSquareGarden,soIabandonthetaxiat36thand7thandrunthelastfewblocks.
Inthecab,I’dsentamessagetoFWOJ:
OnmywaytoMadisonSquareGarden.Wishmeluck.
Therepliescomeinfrommyfriends,hypingmeup:
GiTaek:AJA!AJA!
Angela:JENNY!Fighting!
Sori:Getyourman!
Icheckthetimeonmyphone.It’s7:40,whichmeansXOXOgoesonintwentyminutes.
ItrytocallJaewoobuthisphonemustbeturnedoffbecauseitgoesstraighttovoicemail.
Hurriedly,ItextNathaniel,whoIhaven’tcontactedsincethenightJaewooandIbrokeup:
I’matMadisonSquareGarden.Isthereanywayyoucouldgetmeinside?
Evenwithtwentyminutestoshowtime,there’sahugelineoutsidethestadium,slowlypouringthroughthedoorswherestaffarecheckingticketsandguardsarecheckingbags.
Withoutaticket,I’llnevergetin.
IopenmyphonetocallNathanielanditimmediatelypowersdown.IwassoexhaustedfromtravelinglastnightthatIforgottochargeit.
Iestimatearoundfifteenminutesuntilshowtime.Oratleast,whenthey’rescheduledtostart.Ifthisconcertisanythinglike95D’sconcertinSeoul,itwon’tbeginontime.
Icirclearoundthebuilding,lookingoutforsomething,anything.
There!Asideareacordonedoffwithasingleguard.Visiblebehindtheropeisadoor,aseparateentrancefortheroadcrew.
Ihurryover.
Theguard,aburlyLatinoguywithabeardeyesmewithsuspicion.“Thelineforentryisontheothersideofthebuilding.”
“IneedtoseeXOXO.”
“Yeah,youandthetwentythousandotherpeople.”
“No,like,Iknowthem.I’maclassmate.”
“Sureyouare.”
“Seriously,askNamJiSeok.He’stheirmanager.”
“Nicetry.Nowifyou’dstepback…”
No,thiscan’tbehowitends,foiledbyasecurityguard.Myeyesdartbehindhim.
Ican’tgiveupnow.IneedtoseeJaewoo,totellhimthatI’msorry,thatIwaswrongandafraidand…
“Jenny?”
Someoneapproachesfrombehindthesecurityguardfromwheretheyexitedanotheroneofthosesleekblackvans.Myheartlifts,thenimmediatelysinks.
It’sSun.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”heasks.He’salreadydressedtogoonstage,inasparklingdark-bluejacketthatprobablycostamilliondollars,hislonghairfallingelegantlyoverhisshoulders.He’sabsolutelybeautiful,andthelastpersonIwantedtosee.
“IcametoseeJaewoo.”
“Ah.”Hebiteshislip,andIcanseehimthinking.
“Iknowyoudon’tlikeme,”Iblurtout,andheraisesasingle,well-groomedeyebrow.“IknowyouthinkI’llonlydistractJaewoo,thathiscareerwillsufferfrombeingwithme.ButIthinkyou’rewrong.Jaewoocan’thelptakingcareofpeople—he’stoogood-hearted—buthedoesn’thavetotakecareofme.Becausethetruthis,Idon’tneedhim.Ihaveawholelifethat’sseparatefromhis.ButIstillwanttobewithhim.Iwanttobethereforhimwhenhe’sunhappyjustasmuchasIwanttobethereforhimwhenhe’shappy.ThoughIhopehe’sneverunhappybecauseitphysicallyhurtswhenhe’sunhappy,youknow?”
“Iknow.”
I’msostartledbyhisresponsethatIimmediatelyshutmymouth.
Sunturnstothesecurityguard,who’sbeenwatchinguswithaquizzicalexpression.UnlesshecanunderstandKorean,hehasnoideawhatIjustsaid.
“Excuseme,sir.”Sunholdsupacardonalanyardhe’swrappedaroundhiswrist.SpeakinginbrokenEnglishhesays,“Iamoneoftheartists.She’s”—hegesturesvaguelyinmydirection—“VIP.”
Apiercingscreamcomesfrombehindme.“Sun-oppa!”
He’sbeenspotted.Soon,morescreamsjointhefirst,andthegroundliterallyappearstoshakewiththerushofpoundingfeet.
“Damn.”Thesecurityguardreachesforhisradiotocallforbackup.“Takeherinside.Hurry.”
IbypasstheropeandfollowSuntothesideentrance.Thecriesof“Sun-oppa”canbeheard,cuttingoffasthedoorshutsbehindus.
“Thanks,”Isay,catchingmybreath.Wehaven’tgonefar,butmyheart’sstillracingfromtheadrenaline.“I—Ididn’tthinkyou’dhelpme.”
“I’mnothelping,”hesays,completelypoised.“I’mjustchoosingnottostandintheway.”
“That’shelping.”
Heshrugs.Pivoting,hestartswalkingdownthehall,andIhurrytofollow.Wepassbyafewcrewmemberswhobowtohimandwishhimagoodshow,whileglancingatmecuriously.
“YouandIbothhavedifferentviewsonwhat’sbestforJaewoo,”Sunsays,glancingdownthecorridortocheckthatnoone’swatching,thenreturninghisgazetome,“butit’shislife.Heshouldbetheonewhomakesthedecisionthathethinksisbest,don’tyouthink?”
“Hasanyonetoldyouthatyou’rewise?”
Hesmirks,thenturnswithaflipofhislonghair,callingoverhisshoulderasheleaves,“Theydon’tcallmetheleaderofXOXOfornothing.”
Iwalkswiftlydownthecorridor.Idon’tknowwhattimeitis,butJaewoo’ssomewherenearby,Ijusthavetofindhim.
“Hey,stoprightthere!”Anothersecurityguard;thistimeoneofXOXO’screw,ashespeaksinKorean.“Doyouhaveclearancetobedownhere?”
Dammit!I’msoclose.Thecorridorhooksattheend.ShouldImakearunforit?
“Don’tmindher,”anothervoiceinterrupts,oneIrecognize.“Sheworksforthevenue.”
Iglanceovermyshoulder.
Youngminengagesthemaninfriendlyconversation.Hishairisdyedbrightredandhe’swearingablackoutfitwithchain-likeaccessories.Catchingmygazeovertheman’sshoulder,hewinks.
Iseizetheopportunityhe’sgivenme,racingdownthecorridor,roundingthecorner,andrunningsmack-dabintoNathaniel.
“Hey,Jenny,isn’tthisasurprise.”Nathaniel’swearingapaisleyjacketoverloosetrousers.He’salsobleachedhishairsinceIlastsawhim,toabrilliant-whitecolor,astarkcontrasttohisdarkeyes.“Whatareyoudoinghere?LastIchecked,weweren’tinLosAngeles.”
“I’mauditioningforaplaceinprogramsforcelloatafewNewYorkuniversities.”
“Nice.How’dyoudo?”
“Igotintomytopchoice.”
“Congrats!”Heraiseshishandforahigh-fiveandIraisemineinstinctively.
“Wait!”Iscowl.“I’mnotheretomakesmalltalkwithyou.Where’sJaewoo?”
Asmallcreaseformsbetweenhisbrows.“Idon’tknow.
“Whatdoyoumeanyoudon’tknow?Isn’tyourconcertabouttostart?”
Hesighs,scratchingathischeek,carefulnottomessuphismakeup.“YouknowJaewoo.Whenhe’sfeelingoverwhelmed,helikestobealone.Just—uh—notagreattimetogodisappearing.IwasactuallyonmywaytoaskSunifweshouldpushtheshowbackanotherthirtyminutes.It’s8:05already.We’resupposedtogoonintenminutes.”
Jaewoo’smissing.Afeelinglodgesinmychest,notsomuchworrybutdetermination.“YougofindSun.I’llgetJaewoo.”
Nathanielwatchesmeforafewseconds,thennods.“Ileavehiminyourcare.”
Wepartways,himbackdownthecorridorIjustpassed,andmedownthehallthatbranchestotheleft,oppositewhereI’drunintoNathaniel.
WheredoesonefindalostK-popstarten—nownine—minutesbeforehe’ssupposedtoperformlive?
Allthedoorsinthehallareclosed.Igotothenearestandwrenchitopen.Fourcrewmemberswithcupnoodlesliftedtotheirmouthsturntostareatme.
“Sorry!”Iapologize,bowquickly,andclosethedoor.
I’llneverfindhim,ifIgodoor-to-door.Think,Jenny!
Thelightsinthehallaredim,theroarofthestadiumreverberatingthroughthefloors.Lightfiltersfrombeneatheachdoorway,suggestingactivitywithin
Exceptforthelastdoorontheright.Nolightpenetratesfrombeneaththecrack.Istartwalkingtowardit,thenjogging,thenfull-outsprinting.
YouknowJaewoo.
Idoknowhim.Thefirsttimewemet,Ifoundhiminthekaraokeroom,sittingaloneinthedarkwithhiseyesclosed.
Reachingforthedoorknob,Ifinditunlocked.AsItwistandpressitopen,thelightfromthehallcutsthroughthedarkness.Jaewoolooksupfromwherehe’sseatedonacouchatthebackoftheroom.
“Jenny?”Hestands.“Whatareyou—”Hefalters.“Whatareyoudoinghere?Iseverythingallright?”
Istepthroughthedoor.“Everything’sfine.”
Nowthathe’shere,infrontofme.
Liketheothers,he’sdressedlikehewalkedstraightoutofafashionmagazine,inadarkblazerwithashirtunderneaththathasadeep-cutV.Ihavetoforcemyselftokeepmygazeonhisface,andnothisexposedchest.Hisoutfitalsohasafewchainmotifs,tomatchYoungmin’s,includingalightstrandthatringshisneck.
“Jenny?”
“Sorry,Iwasdistracted.You’revery…distracting.”
Hisface,whichheldameasureofconfusionsmoothsout,andhislipstwistinaruefulsmile.That’swhenInoticeheholdssomethinginhishand.
“Isthat…?”
Thestickerphoto.I’dthoughtitwaslostforgood.
Henods.“Turnsoutsomeonefromourschoolfounditonthelawnandsoldittoalocalgossipmagazine,butshe’donlysoldaphotoshe’dtakenoftheoriginal.”
“WasitJina?”
Hefrowns.“KimJina?No,thisgirlwasaFirstYear.Shewasonlythinkingofmakingabitofcash.Shereturnedthepictureandapologized.Iacceptedherapology.Bythen,thescandalhadblownoveranyway.”
“I’msorry,”Iblurtout.Thenrepeatthewordsdeliberately,“I’msorry.”
Jaewoodoesn’tsayanything,justwaitspatientlyformetocontinue.
“I’msorryforleavinglikethat,rightaseverythingwashappening.Iwas…afraid.Itsoundssillynow,butIwasafraidofhowmuchIcaredaboutyou,andIwasscaredthatitwoulddestroymewhenwedidbreakup.It’sironicthatitdiddestroyme,butitwasmyowndoing.”
Itakeadeepbreath.“Iwaswrongtobeginarelationshipwithyouthinkingitwouldfailintheend.Ishouldknowbetter.I’mamusician.Youdon’tpracticeinordertogiveabadrecital.Youworkhard,youputinthetime,energy,andpassion,andyougiveabeautifulperformance.”
Jaewoowatchesmeforasecond,hisexpressiongivingnothingaway.Thenhesays,deadpan,“I’llbeyourpartnerforthisbeautifulperformance.”
“OhmyGod!”Igroan.“You’retotallymessingupmymetaphor.”
Hestartslaughing,hiswholebodyshaking,tearsinhiseyes.
Iscowl.“Whattimeisit?Don’tyouhaveyourownbeautifulperformancetogetto?”
Hestopslaughing.“Ohshit,you’reright.Iforgotaboutthat.”
“Youforgotaboutit!”
Hegrins,whichiscompletelyunfair,becausewithhismakeupandthatoutfit,it’slikeacupid’sarrowtomyheart.“MygirlfriendthatIwasinlovewithwhobrokeupwithmeonahospitalrooftopthreemonthsagoinSeoulshowsuprightbeforemyconcertinNewYorkCity.Yeah,Iforgotaboutit.”
Inlovewith!
“YoualmostmademeforgetwhyIwasinhereinthefirstplace…”
“Ohyeah,whywereyouinhere?”
Hesmilesshyly.“Iwasnervous.Iamnervous.Thisisthebiggestconcertwe’veevergiven,andourfirstintheUS.”
“You’regoingtodogreat.You’vepreparedforthis.Andyouhavebandmateswhowillsupportyou,evenifyoudomakeamistake,whichyou’renotgoingto,”Iaddhurriedly,“butyouknowwhatImean.”
Wow,Isuckatpeptalks.
“You’reright,”Jaewoosays.“IthinkI’mreadynow.”Ireachoutahandtohim,andhetakesit.Together,wehurryfromtheroom,rushingbacktothejunctionwhereIlastsawSun.
TherestofthemembersofXOXOareallthere,waiting.
“Jaewoo-hyeong!Jenny-nuna!”Youngminshouts.
“Oh,look,”Nathanielsayswithateasingsmile,“Jenny’sbroughthimbacktous.”
“Ijustneededsometime,”Jaewoosays,rubbingthebackofhisneckwithonehand,whilekeepingatightholdontominewiththeother.
“Yeah,weknow,”Nathanielsays,butgentlinghiswordswithawink.
“Areyouallright?”Sunasks.“Wecanstallabit.”
“I’mfine.”
“Ifyougetoverwhelmedupthere,Jaewoo-hyeong,”Youngminsays,“justmakethissignal.”Heraiseshispointerfingerandscratchestheundersideofhisjaw.“I’lldosomethingsillyanddistracteveryone.”
Jaewoogrins.“Thanks,Youngmin-ah.”
Istarttotearup.Howcanyounot,witnessingthismoment?
It’sjustsobeautiful,thecaretheyhaveforoneanother.Thetrust,love,andbelief.It’sremarkableandjustsowholesome
“Jenny-nuna?”Youngminasks.“What’swrong?Whyareyoucrying?”
Jaewooreleasesmyhand,onlysothatIcanwipethetearsfrommyeyes.“I’mjust…I’mjustabigfan.”
Theyalllaugh.
Jaewooturnstowardhisbandmates.“Arewereadytodothis?”
“Yeah!”Youngminpumpshisfistintheair.
Nathanielgrins.“Let’sgivethemtheshowofalifetime.”
“Everyoneputyourhandsin,”Sunsays,andtheyallputtheirrighthandsin,fromoldesttoyoungestonthetop.“Whoarewe?”
Theypressdownontheirhandstogether,thenliftup.“XOXO!”Recipient:JennyGo,TheManhattanSchoolofMusic
Jooyoung-ah~
HappyNewYear!
Thankyouforthegiftsyousentmymotherandsister.JoorihasbeenbraggingtoallherschoolfriendsthatshehasacooleonniintheUS.Bothsheandmymothercan’twaitforyoutovisitSeoulforthesummer.It’salltheytalkabout.Butthat’sallright,it’sallIcantalkabouttoo.
Wishingyouluckonyourfinalexams—thispostcardshouldarrivebeforethen—Iknowyou’regonnarockit.Becauseyou’regreatatpracticing.
I’mgreatatpracticingtoo.Let’spracticealotthenexttimeweseeeachother.
Iknowwespokejustlastnight,andIknowthatwhateverItellyouinthispostcardyou’llhaveknownforhoweverlongittakesforyoutoreceivethis,butIstillwantedtowritedownthewords,thatI’llsaytoyouinperson,thissummer.
???.
XOXO,JaewooAcknowledgments
Tomyagent,PatriciaNelson,whoIdependuponinallthingspublishing,andwholiftsmeupandchallengesmetobethebestwriterIcanbe—thankyou.
TotheThreeC’sthatmadeXOXOpossible:toCamilleKellogg,I’msogratefulforyourearlybeliefinme;toCatherineWallace,XOXOwouldnotbethebookitistodaywithoutyourbrilliantnotes;andlastly,toCarolinaOrtiz,I’msohappytohaveyouonTeamXOXO!
Toallthepeoplewhomakemelooksogood:tomycopyeditor,JillFreshney;proofreader,LisaLesterKelly;productioneditor,NicoleMoreno;productionmanager,SeanCavanagh;andsomanyworkingbehindthescenes—youaretrulyappreciated.
TotheteamatHarperTeenandTeamEpicReads,specialshoutoutstoShannonCox,SamBenson,KeelyPlatte,AubreyChurchward,JenniferCorcoran,andCindyHamilton.It’sanhonortoworkwithallofyou!
Tothetalentedartistsbehindmycuteandromanticcover:designer,JessieGang;andillustrator,Zipcy.Thankyouforgivingmethecoverofmyrom-comdreams!
TotheauthorswhoshoweredXOXOwithsuchbeautifulwords—GloriaChao,MaureneGoo,SarahKuhn,LylaLee,EmeryLord,EmmaMills,AminahMaeSafi,KasieWest,andJulianWinters—thankyou!
TotheTreechat,whowrotetogetherwithmethroughoutthosefirstturbulentmonthsofspringandsummer2020:AkshayaRaman,ErinRoseKim,KatyRosePool,MaddyColis,andAmandaFoody.Withoutyourdailyencouragements,thisbookwouldnothavebeenwritten.
Tomyverytalentedandsupportivecritiquegroup:AlexCastellanos,AmandaHaas,AshleyBurdin,ChristineLynnHerman,ClaribelOrtega,JanellaAngeles,MaraFitzgerald,MegRK,MelodySimpson,andTaraSim—I’msohonoredtocallyoucritiquepartnersandfriends.
Toallthefriendswhocontinuetosupportmeinallthings,thankyou:KristinDwyer,StephanieWilling,CandiceIloh,MichelleCalero,DevonVanEssen,GabyBrabazon,OliviaAbtahi,CynthiaMun,SonjaSwanson,AshleyKim,MichelleKim,EllenOh,KarunaRiazi,NafizaAzad,LaurenRha,VeedaBybee,DavidSlayton,andMichelleThinhSantiago.
TomyBFF,LucyCheng—I’mnotsorryfordroppingyouoffforclasseswhileblastingSHINee’s“RingDingDong.”
Finally,Iwanttothankmyfamily:mymom,whousedtobringmetotheKoreanstoretobuyCDsandtheKoreanrentalstoreforVHSrecordingsofmusicshows;andmydad,whosupportedmyK-popaddictionwholeheartedly!MycoololdercousinJennifer,whoIwillforeverassociatewithH.O.T.andmysillyandlovingoldercousinAdam,whoalwayssendsthebestBTS-themedgifts!Katherine,alsoknownastheauthorKatCho,butwhoIcalleonni,mywriterBFF,andnoraebangpartner—thereisnooneIwouldrathersingBTS’s“SpringDay”thanwithyou.Sara,Wyatt,Christine,andBryan—tripstoKoreaarebetterwhenyou’rearound.HeemongSamchon,forbuyingmeeverysingleFin.K.LalbumwhenIwaselevenandHeegumSamchon—ImissvisitingyouinLA,butvisitstoKoreaarefuntoo!Bosung,Wusung,Eugene,andDaniel—IstillhavethatG-Dragonsweatshirt.EmoandEmoBoo,thankyouforallthewonderfulsummersspentatyourhomeinSeoul.Mylovinggrandmothers—evennow,thesoundofKoreanvoicesontheTVgivesmewarmmemoriesofwatchingK-dramasoveryourshoulders.Myolderbrother,Jason,whobeganmyloveofKoreanmusicintruth.Andlastly,myyoungersister,Camille,myK-popconcertbuddyandfavoritepersonintheworld—Iloveyou!
Andtoallmycousins,aunts,uncles,nieces,andnephewsinmyverylarge,boisterous,andlovingfamily:loveyou,loveyou,loveyou!!ShoutouttoSeojun,asalways.
AndspecialthankstoToro,mysweetpup,whomustlistentothesameK-popsongsonrepeatwhileI’mdrafting.
Lastbutnotleast,toallmyreaders,thankyou!Yoursupportmeanstheworldtome.AbouttheAuthor
PhotobyCamilleOh
AXIEOHisafirst-generationKoreanAmericanborninNewYorkCityandraisedinNewJersey.ShestudiedKoreanhistoryandcreativewritingasanundergradattheUniversityofCaliforniaSanDiegoandholdsanMFAinwritingforyoungpeoplefromLesleyUniversity.HerpassionsincludeK-pop,anime,stationerysupplies,andmilktea.ShecurrentlyresidesinLasVegas,Nevada,withherpuppy,Toro.
Visitheronlineatwww.axieoh.com
Discovergreatauthors,exclusiveoffers,andmoreathc.comBooksbyAxieOh
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PrintISBN:978-0-06-302499-1
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