Twenty-Four
Even though Jihoon has seen me stumble around with tangled hair and eyes puffy with sleep, I take my time getting ready in the morning. It’s for me, I assure myself as I fix my hair so it falls loose behind my shoulders in waves from my night braid. Not because I feel intimidated now that I know who he is. Ariadne Hui does not get intimidated by pop culture celebrities, even if Jihoon is on a completely different level than some season three reality TV reject.
However, Ariadne Hui doesn’t usually refer to herself in the third person, so it looks like all bets are off.
I did another hour of research when I woke at dawn, unable to sleep and shaken from a nightmare of my office surrounded by television cameras. This time I focused more on StarLune news and concert footage. There are videos of the band arriving and departing various places surrounded by buff black-clad security guards holding back crowds of screaming fans clutching cell phones. Half the time, I can’t even tell which one is Jihoon, since they’re covered in masks and sunglasses and hats as the flashes strobe over them. The experience looks both physically and mentally unbearable and provides a fresh understanding of his fishbowl life.
It’s the concert footage that astounds me, though. I watched stunned as he performed in stadiums for tens of thousands of people. What kind of person can do that, hold so many people’s unwavering attention for hours on end? Hana can talk all she wants about personas and multilayers of self or whatever, but the fact remains that Jihoon is one man, and that one man has people from around the world panting for him and watching videos of him napping. That one man has enough confidence, enough well-earned arrogance, to step on a stage and know he can control the crowd with a single movement.
What does he want with me?
Looks like Ariadne Hui gets a little intimidated by celebrities after all.
This might be the last time we talk, but I want to know everything I should have known in the first place. I feel almost calm. Resolute. Nothing will happen between us because what can happen? I was a fool to think otherwise. Despite this conviction, my muscles are so tense my teeth chatter when I finally send the text I’ve been sitting on for minutes. I’m ready to talk if you’re free.
Jihoon’s at my door within thirty seconds, but when I open it, he steps back, eyes flickering over my face as if to read the future of the conversation.
“Hi,” I say.
This encourages him enough to come in, and I wave him to the table by the window. The curtains are open to show Bloor Street, muted gray from the older buildings stained with pollution and the cloudy morning. Jihoon’s white shirt plays up the tan of his skin and reveals the thickness of his neck and little divots of his collarbones. His hair is pushed back from his face, and two small hoops decorate his left ear, and one hangs from his right. I hadn’t realized his ears were pierced.
When we’re both seated, I look him in the eye. “What else didn’t you tell me?” Better to have the great cleanse right now.
“Nothing.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
His head jerks up. “No, of course not.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No boyfriend either.”
“Are Kit and Daehyun mad?”
“They are displeased.”
This seems like an understatement since they had to come halfway across the world to haul his ass home, but I leave it alone. “Are you going back to Korea?”
“Yes.” He tugs on one of the silver hoops. “I have to.”
“Why?”
Jihoon wrinkles his nose as he looks out the window. “The company is furious. I have to fulfill my contract.” He pauses. “I owe it to my members. StarLune is five people, and no matter what my personal feelings, I need to act in their best interest.”
“At the expense of your own?”
He gives me a confused look. “I can’t make the decision to break up the band by myself, no matter how I feel. That would be selfish.”
“You were going to.”
He tucks his hands into the sleeves of his black sweater. “I had a fantasy, and it ended. Like all fantasies.”
I keep the questions going. “When are you leaving?”
“Soon. This was terrible timing.” Jihoon stares at the ground. “I added to everyone’s overwork and the stress we always get when we’re releasing new songs. I forced them to lie for me.”
“Right.” His self-flagellation is making it hard to stay mad at him. We might as well end on a friendly note. I stand from the table and start pacing to get rid of the jumpy energy that’s playing over my skin and driving into my bones. “Why did you even start all this with me?”
He lays his head on the table with an audible thump. “I wasn’t thinking, Ari. I only wanted you—selfish again. I didn’t think of StarLune or the future or even your feelings, only of myself. I felt a connection when I met you that first day. You see me. You treated me like my family does.”
“They pull knives on each other?”
“That part, no.” He grins, but it quickly slips away. “They don’t act like I’m different from anyone else. I’m not an idol, only Jihoon, a man who works as a performer but who also nearly burned down the kitchen making nurungji when he was thirteen. I feel normal with them, and with you. Calm. Safe.”
When I woke up, I was sure what I wanted or at least confident as to what would happen. We’d talk, say goodbye, and then I’d be left with memories. When I turn and see Jihoon frowning on the other side of the room, it’s clear that I might not have been as certain as I told myself. I like being with him, too, and it hurts to give that up. We’ve barely known each other a month, but the intimacy of living in the same apartment has made me comfortable with him in a way I don’t usually feel. Actually, in a way I never feel, not even with Hana. He lied and the residual of that hurt remains but both Hana and Jihoon have made it clear they had reasons. I might not fully agree, but I understand enough to forgive them.
“People do things for me because they have to or they think it will benefit them.” Jihoon runs his hand along the edge of the table. “You never did. At first you seemed so hard and cold, like you are at work, but your actions were kind. Generous.”
Pretend it’s a legal negotiation. You’re working for your client, Ms. A. Hui, and your job is to get all the details and figure out the best plan of action.
“I like things to be organized,” I say. “Predictable. This is the opposite of that.”
He crosses the room and reaches out to touch my jawline, letting his fingers trace down to my throat. My pulse flutters as he passes over my skin. “Have you thought perhaps you don’t crave routine as much as you tell yourself?”
I pull away. “What do you know about people anyway?” He lives the rarified life of a pop star. He never has to interact with the hoi polloi.
Jihoon looks at me in disbelief. “I study people. I watch them. Do you think I write songs out of the blue? I watch people live and bleed, and I bleed, too. That’s what people want, what they need so they don’t feel alone.”
“I see.”
“No, Ari, because you don’t bleed—ever. You don’t know yourself at all.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that,” I snap.
“Yet it’s true.”
I open my mouth to argue…but I can’t.
“You saw me, the real me, before all this”—he points around the room—“got in the way. I want you to keep seeing me like that, not as Min. Can you?”
I examine him. He looks tired and worn and painfully genuine. Right now he’s Jihoon and not Min. What about when he leaves this room? Who is he then?
“What do you want out of this?” I ask as I walk back to the table and sit. “Us, whatever that is.”
“It would be best if I go home and we forget we ever met,” he says, looking me in the eyes.
My skin tingles, then goes cold, because these are my own thoughts from last night. “I know.”
“Do you want that?” he asks.
“Do you?”
“I asked first.”
“You’re the one who likes to talk and who caused this mess.”
“Then no.” Before I can speak, he continues, “I want to be with you, learn you. We’re new together, but I see a path. I don’t know how it will happen, but that’s what I want.”
“So do I.” I rush the words out without thinking, but they feel right. I let myself believe them even as I wonder what the hell I’m doing. This isn’t what I had decided. This isn’t a plan based on logic and a cold assessment of the facts.
Living with my heart, I guess. I don’t know that I like it.
“Now what?” I ask.
He stands up and leans over, fingers sliding over my fist. “I kiss you,” he says seriously. “Then we talk.”
I wriggle away. “First we talk.”
Now he’s the one to start pacing. “I want you to come to Korea with me.”
“Whoa, tiger.” I blink. “Right now?”
“Soon. For a visit. You can meet the other members, Xin and Sangjun—you would like them. They will like you. We could explore Seoul.”
A vacation. I once made travel plans for a friend’s trip to Korea, yearning to be there myself as I followed the curves of the Han River on the map with my finger. It’s enticing, but…I come to my senses. “Alex says no one knows about me now. If I go to Korea with you, that goes out the window. And you said you’d be busy.”
“We would make it work. Newlight would prefer we didn’t date because of our image, but I don’t have a formal dating ban.”
“A what now?”
“We weren’t allowed to date as trainees or in the first two years after our debut,” he says casually, like this is a normal action for an employer to take. “It’s to help us focus on our work and avoid scandals.”
“Uh…” I honestly have no response to this.
“Sangjun, one of the other band members, was dating someone for a year. Newlight told him to keep it secret but didn’t forbid it. As long as the public doesn’t find out, it’s not a problem.”
“What if they do find out?”
“It compromises that person’s safety, and some fans don’t like it, but we have ways to keep our privacy.” Jihoon leans against the wall. “The distance is an issue because I can’t stay here. We have a comeback, and there’s much preparation.”
“How long will that take?”
He bites his lip. “At least another three months of practice and then promotion, plus the end-of-year award shows. There’s also a special fan concert in a month.”
“I guess we figure out how to text around a time difference,” I say. I’ve decided this is what I want, so I’m going to go for it.
“Long-distance? You would do that?”
“There don’t seem to be other options,” I say. “Let’s try it, and then we can talk visits.”
He already has his phone out and is tapping away. My own buzzes with a calendar invite. “What’s this?” I ask.
“The day after our VIP concert. We have free time then, perhaps even a few days.” He grins at me. “Seoul is lovely in the fall.”
I pretend to consider it. “I do have a few places I wanted to visit.”
“I’m sure you will plan the best itinerary.” He puts his phone away and comes over to me. “I will, of course, be pleased to accompany you.”
“I like to walk,” I warn him. Now it’s my turn to move closer, almost enough to touch.
A small smile appears on his face, and he pulls my hair over my shoulder to bare my neck. When he leans down to whisper in my ear, his lips brush my skin. “I’m aware,” he says, voice almost a purr. “I like to shop.”
He doesn’t move back when I drift a hand up his chest and tilt my head so my hair brushes his arm. “I can do some shopping if we go to bookstores.”
His hand covers mine, clasping it against his heart. “You can’t read Korean.”
My other hand comes up around the back of his neck, and I press my fingers to his warm skin. He shivers. “Doesn’t matter. I like bookstores. And I want to see the pink muhly grass.”
“I know the perfect spot for photos. Deal.” He drops a tiny kiss on my face, right beside my ear, and pulls back so we face each other. “Now the kissing,” he says against my mouth. His hands grip my hips to pull me close.
“Hold on.” I wiggle away and accept the calendar invite. “There, it’s official.”
“Good,” he says as he guides me back into his embrace. “I’m glad we’ve resolved the travel plans.”
I don’t have time to answer before he acts. It doesn’t matter—now is definitely time for the kissing.
I’m not sure if it’s because there’s a time limit before he leaves, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten in bed faster with a man in my life. Jihoon murmurs against my neck, his breath warm. I put my hand on his chest and am momentarily distracted.
“Why are you so smooth?” I lean down to check. Totally hairless.
“Laser treatment.” He kisses my shoulder, then lets his tongue trace a wandering path. “Easier than shaving all the time.”
“How about…” I reach down, and he grabs my hand.
“How about you’ll find that out soon enough?” He pins my hand down and tickles me until I’m laughing so hard, I’m breathless, then watches intently as my giggles trail off into little gasps before I pull him down to kiss me. His hand releases mine and drifts down my side as he plants kisses along my throat.
Then he dips much farther down until I’m breathless for a very different reason, and there’s nothing else in my mind but him.