Nineteen
The phone rings as I’m sullenly lugging my heavy work bag off the subway. It’s Jihoon. Odd, he’s better on text.
“Where are you?” His voice is urgent.
“Hello, I did have a nice day. Thank you for asking.”
“Ari, this is serious. Where are you?”
I swing my bag to my other shoulder. “I’m in the alley near the subway. What’s up? Do you need something from the store?”
“What do you see?”
“Why?”
“Please.”
I sigh. “The alley. There’s a squirrel. What am I supposed to see? Two squirrels?”
My phone beeps a notification, followed by a few more. There’s no cell reception on the subway, so these must be all the messages that came in while I was in transit. There’s more than usual. No doubt another meaningless work crisis.
Jihoon doesn’t laugh, and a wave of apprehension flows through me. His worry must be catching because I swear I hear shouting from the next street. There’s a burst of Korean from Jihoon’s side as he talks to someone. He comes back on the line. “I want you to do me a favor.”
“What?” This sounds suspicious, but I bet it has something to do with his visitors.
Jihoon speaks as I come out of the alley, but I interrupt him and stop dead as I take in the scene. “What’s going on here?”
“Ari…”
I talk right over him. “Oh my God, there must have been a murder or bomb threat or something.”
In front of me is chaos. News trucks, reporters, and videographers line the sidewalk, crowding people with cell phones held at the ready. Whatever happened must have been terrible, but also, shouldn’t they all be running the other way?
“Ari!” Jihoon’s shout gets my attention. “You have to listen to me. Go back to the subway exit. There’s a silver car there. Get in.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I stand on the sidewalk watching the scene. “What happened? How did you know this was going on?”
A group of young women jostle me as they pass. “I can’t believe he was here the whole time,” one says. “In my own damn city, and I had no idea. We might have passed him on the street.”
“No way,” says her friend. “I’d know Min in a second. I’ve got Min-dar.”
“Jihoon?” My eyes follow them up the street, where they join the throng of people.
“Try not to say my name. Our fans found out I was staying in your building. My team is working on it.”
“Don’t say your name? Your team? What the hell do you have a team for?” My phone beeps, and this time I check. It’s from Hana. IM SO SORRY. “Whose fans?”
I tap my reply as Jihoon mutters something in Korean.
Me: About what
Hana: That I didn’t tell you about Jihoon. Listen to him.
I don’t like this and go back to the call. “What is going on?”
Jihoon clears his throat. “There are a few things I meant to tell you.”
“A few things?” I put him on speakerphone to scroll my social media. “Hold on.” #JihoonFound, #StarLune, and #MinToronto are trending. Worldwide. I click on one and check the posts.
Min in Toronto?
Not helpful. I go to the next.
Jihoon in my own backyard @_starlune_ what you playing? #Mincognito
StarLune, that K-pop band? The one with the video we watched together? I promptly take him off speaker.
“Ari, you can’t go home. I need you to go and get in the car.” His raspy voice is low and coaxing, and I head back, too stunned to argue.
“You’re in a boy band and didn’t think this was something to mention?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Wait.” I lower my voice, suddenly conscious of why he told me not to say his name. “Kit? Daehyun?”
“They’re members of StarLune.”
“Okay.” I watch another group of people—not only women and not only young—rush by me. “This is cool. I am good with this.” I can’t believe Hana. What the hell was she thinking, hiding this from me? Not only that, but keeping me in the dark when she knew I was into him? The anger is a white flash that bursts through to encompass not only Hana but Jihoon, the instigator of all this.
I speed walk through the alley, bag bouncing against my leg with the same rhythm as my heart banging in my chest. My hands are so weak, I keep losing my grip on the phone.
I turn the corner, and as promised, there’s the silver car. The tinted window lowers to reveal Alex Williams waving at me. “Hello, Ms. I Hate Rock Stars. Look at us now.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I get in.
He sobers up quickly when he sees my face. “Sorry, Ariadne.”
I put Jihoon on speaker and turn back to Alex. “Why are you here?”
“As you know, I’m the head of PR for Hyphen.”
I wait for more information as Jihoon conducts a mysterious whispered conversation on his end of the line.
Alex finally obliges. “As StarLune’s North American distribution arm, this makes me the man on the scene and this beautiful mess my problem for the time being. We’re controlling the situation.”
The car slams to a stop as the driver tries to avoid a clutch of people running down the sidewalk. “Looks like you’re doing a bang-up job,” I say.
Alex looks up from his phone. “Be thankful your name didn’t leak,” he says. “This is nothing compared to what it could have been.”
“Ari.” Jihoon’s voice comes through the phone, nearly making me drop it. “Alex is going to bring you to a safe place. I’m here waiting.”
“I’ll speak to you later,” I snap into the phone. Then I put it on silent to do some online searching for my own answers. Beside me, Alex opens his mouth but shuts it when he sees my glare. I don’t want to talk to him right now and hear whatever spin he’s going to put on this. I want the unbiased and accurate information proffered by random strangers on the internet with zero insider knowledge.
“We can talk when you’re done,” he says easily.
I barely hear him as I gawk at my phone. Kit is StarLune’s leader and main dancer, and Daehyun is the main rapper. They’re known professionally as Kay and DeeDee. Jihoon? Stage name: Min. Roles: visual and main vocalist. I’m not even sure what visual means. I get off social media and do a search for Jihoon. The first hit, an English-language Korean gossip site, tells me what I need to know.
K-POP IDOL IN HIDING?
Rumors continue to surround the whereabouts of StarLune’s vocalist Min, who hasn’t been seen in more than two weeks. Newlight, StarLune’s entertainment company, has refused to comment on the hugely popular singer, saying only that members are busy preparing for their next comeback. A source close to the band says the quintet is exhausted after their last world tour, which sold out venues globally.
The story appears to have been an avenue to showcase a variety of Jihoon GIFs that I scroll through with increasing disbelief. The guy living in my apartment in sweatpants and drinking iced coffee is the same one with his tongue peeking out to touch his tinted lip? The one thrusting his leather-clad hips at the camera, hand gripping his inner thigh with his head thrown back? This fucking guy?
“Jihoon is in a K-pop boy band,” I say, testing the words out loud. “He is basically part of a Korean NSYNC.”
“Choi Jihoon is a performer and songwriter with one of the biggest bands on earth,” corrects Alex. “He is known as Min.”
“He’s famous.” There’s a feed dedicated entirely to Jihoon walking stylishly through international airports. “A celebrity.”
“Famous is not the word,” my escort says with withering disbelief. “They outsell most artists globally. You know that, right?”
“I did not know that. Why would I know that?”
Alex shifts his whole body to eyeball me. “Because you don’t live under a rock?” At my blank look, he sighs, apparently remembering that, for all intents and purposes, when it comes to anything outside work, I live under a boulder. “Didn’t you read the background I gave you?”
“I skimmed it. I don’t even officially start with Hyphen for another two weeks. It was on my list!”
“I can’t believe you didn’t recognize him even without that.” Alex shakes his head.
“Why would I? Would you recognize the top singer from Norway? Egypt?”
“I would if they were as famous as StarLune, but we can discuss this later. Mr. Choi wasn’t exaggerating when he said you couldn’t go back to your apartment,” he says.
“Why not?”
“They’ve had crowds at airports that were so big, some fans were nearly crushed against the barricades. Also, the potential death threats.”
“I beg your pardon?” I put the phone down to listen more closely.
“Yeah, you don’t get a fandom that huge without there being some people with issues, and those people would not be happy to know Min of StarLune has a girlfriend.”
Death threats are too much for me to absorb, so I cling to what I can handle. “I’m not his girlfriend. He’s my roommate’s cousin. Hana’s cousin.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Please, I saw his face when he was talking about you.”
That gives me a bit of a rush, but now’s not a good moment to savor it. I take in a breath so deep, I reach a count of eleven on the exhale. “Look, Alex, this is all very new to me, so I need you to go slow. Hana—my roommate—said her cousin was here because of a breakup. He certainly never introduced himself as a man who needs a security detail to go to the store.”
Alex gets that PR face I’ve seen him pull on in meetings. “I’m taking you to Mr. Choi in a secure location. He can explain further.”
“Oh my God. Work. What will happen?” My firm is so painfully traditional, I’ll never get ahead if this gets out.
“Right now, it’s all fine. No one knows about you.” To my surprise, he turns to put his hand on my arm. “I promise I’ll do my best to keep your name out of this.”
“Can you?”
He pokes his tongue inside his cheek as he thinks about how to phrase his answer. “Currently it looks good.”
“No guarantees, though.”
Alex shrugs. “There are no guarantees in this life. StarLune fans are passionate, but the vast majority are reasonable people who understand Mr. Choi deserves a private life.”
I consider this. “How did he even manage to get around the city before being recognized today?”
“Masks, hats, and being Asian in a pretty white area of town. No one expected him to be here, and I assume he had a huge chunk of luck.”
“Then it ran out,” I say.
We turn up Avenue Road. “Mr. Choi was spotted at a grocery store by a fan who took a photo and followed him back to the apartment. Normally the fan etiquette is to wait for a while to post a sighting to give an idol privacy, but Mr. Choi’s alleged disappearance threw that out the window.”
“That’s how they know where I live.”
“Where he was staying, since you haven’t been mentioned yet,” he corrects. “Luckily, she couldn’t get in. Even luckier, you and he never left the building together after he was identified.”
“Then there’s no connection between us.”
“Not at the moment, but fans and media will check your neighborhood to find out where Mr. Choi has been. Plus your roommate has his last name.”
“At least they’re related so I would only be the cousin’s roommate.”
He gives me a look.
“What?” I demand.
“Ari, I can’t believe I’m saying this—and please take it in the most professional way possible—but people will never think you were only the roommate.”
I frown. “Why not?”
He fidgets with his phone. “Jesus, look in a mirror. You are not…unattractive.”
I feel the heat light up my face. “Alex!”
“It would explain his mysterious disappearance, especially if someone’s seen you together. There’s no way fans will believe it’s coincidence that a pretty woman happens to live with his cousin and there was nothing between you. It won’t happen. You know what people are like. An idol like Mr. Choi can’t even be seen talking to a woman without dating rumors.” He shakes his head. “Heteronormative as well as intrusive.”
I cover my face. “This is not happening.”
“Oh no, it very much is. I’m sorry to have to lay it out like that, but you know my job. I look at the perception. Optics can be more powerful than reality, and I’m doing what’s best for all of you.” He looks sad. “It’s a mess, Ari. A real mess.”
“Where’s Hana? Those other two, Kit and Daehyun?”
“All secure and with Mr. Choi.”
His phone rings as I watch a man pass us on his bike. Jihoon wasn’t avoiding an ex but escaping his life as an international celebrity. Why? Being waited on hand and foot was too much? He was tired of getting fawned over for breathing? I put my head in my hands as a memory hits me. The work problems. I thought he’d been talking about everyday office drama, but he was talking about StarLune. He might have even written the song we heard in the car, and I had no idea.
My mind is a lazy Susan rotating through Jihoon is a liar, Hana is a liar, and that perennial favorite, what the actual fuck. I go back to my Google search and come across an image of Jihoon strutting down a stage runway, tiny against the tiers of fans in the background.
It’s too much. I throw my phone on the car floor. Alex does me the favor of pretending not to notice when I bend to pick it up a minute later.
Then I start scrolling again.