Twenty-Five
Two very satisfying hours later, Jihoon’s phone buzzes, and he rolls away from where he’s curled against me. Because another human in my vicinity is looking at their phone, I have no choice but to look at mine. I lean over, grimacing at the stiffness in my legs, and grab it from the side table. Hidden among the notifications I set last night to keep informed of StarLune and Min posts—and there are many—is a text from Hana. It’s a GIF of Jihoon dancing, featuring hip thrusts.
That’s where he gets it from. Practice. I approve, feeling his muscles tense and relax as I outline the gorgeously detailed tiger tattoo on his back with my fingers. That there are memes of the man currently in bed with me is as disturbing as you’d expect. He’s a public figure who shares his life with a huge and devoted fan base. A terrible and extremely unwelcome feeling rears up, and although it’s not one I like to recognize, it’s easy enough to identify: inadequacy.
Jihoon leans over and brushes my hair away so he can kiss my shoulder before he buries his face in my neck. When he speaks, the words flutter against my bare skin. “My flight is booked for tonight.”
Having fantastic sex with Jihoon right before he leaves indefinitely for Korea is not going in my Best Decisions Hall of Fame, but I regret nothing. I shake off the anxiety about what will happen after today to look at what’s happening now, in the moment, or at least in the next few hours.
“Want me to come to the airport with you?” I shiver, and he glances up at the air-conditioning vent before tugging the covers up to my neck.
“I’d love that. No one will see you in the car.” He kisses me again, then brushes the tip of his nose against my cheek. He’s so affectionate, I can’t stand it, and I try not to think about the StarLune fame stuff.
Not happening. The question bursts out before I can stop it. “Do you sleep with your fans?”
“Ari, never.” Jihoon turns over to gather me tighter into his arms but pulls away to get off my hair after I squeal. He retakes his spot once he gathers it up and tucks it away.
“Really?”
“None of us would.” He kisses my temple, then rests his forehead against my cheek as his hand strokes along my side. “It would be a huge controversy, a scandal. Too risky, and to have a relationship with a Starry would be stressful. You would be worried about disappointing them once they knew the real you, not the idol.”
His comments trigger another thought. “Money.”
“What about it?” He ghosts little kisses along my arm.
“You’re rich.”
More unrepentant kisses. “I am.”
I yank my arm back and glare at him. “This whole time, you could have been eating in five-star restaurants, but you pretended to be poor.”
“I wasn’t pretending,” he says. “I have money now. For a long time, we didn’t. As trainees, we lived in a crowded dorm. Even after our debut, we ate ramyeon and lived in two rooms for the five of us. The ceiling leaked over Xin’s bed when it rained.”
“Really?”
“He had to sleep with a bucket.” Jihoon rolls onto his back, bringing me with him so I lie on his chest. “Idol life doesn’t last long either. My money is in boring investments.”
I recall one of the videos from my rabbit hole last night. “Don’t you collect vintage watches?” One of them had cost over a half a million dollars.
“Those are investments.” Jihoon clasps his arms around my lower back and moves the conversation on. “Kit hyeong and Daehyun would like to meet you properly at lunch, with no lies between you.”
My stomach growls loud enough to vibrate between us. He laughs. “Hana will come as well.”
“I’d like that.” I’m curious to talk to Kit and Daehyun now that I know who they are. I can tell how important they are to Jihoon. Plus, they might dish some dirt on his early years. “What about Alex?”
“He says he’s busy.” He grimaces. “Cleaning up the mess I made.”
I’m dressed before Jihoon and go out to the kitchen to fetch some coffee. The fridge incorporates NASA-level technology, and I poke buttons until it disgorges some spherical ice from a slot for Jihoon’s cup.
Kit comes in while I’m struggling, and we look at each other. I now know he’s StarLune’s leader as well as Jihoon’s best friend. With everything out in the open, he looks more tired but less tense.
“Coffee?” I say to open conversation.
He passes me a cup that I tuck under the machine. “I heard your flight is booked for tonight,” I say.
“It is.” Kit’s eyes are trained on the slowly filling cup.
I get enough terse answers from my job, where I actually get paid to put up with that shit. I don’t need it from him, so I nod and start to leave. Hopefully he’ll be in a more talkative mood at lunch, but I can’t worry about it now. I’ve got enough on my plate.
“Ariadne.” Kit holds up a hand to stop me. “Can we talk?”
“About what?” I put Jihoon’s cup on the counter and take a sip of my own coffee.
An unhappy smile tugs at his mouth. “Jihoon told me you were smart, so you must know.”
I automatically go on the offensive. “I assume you want to ask me personal questions about your friend instead of asking him directly.”
Under his breath, he mutters, “First Sangjun, now Jihoon.” He raises his voice. “We all want to quit sometimes. It can be a hard life, but it’s what we chose because the rewards outweigh the sacrifices.”
I look at him curiously. He sounds bitter. “Do they?” I ask. “For you as well? All of you?”
The machine beeps but he ignores it. “You have no idea the damage you’ll do to him if you don’t let this go,” he says.
I glare at him, then glance toward the bedrooms and lower my voice. “Don’t you mean damage to StarLune?”
“That, too,” he says. “Although Jihoon will bear the most pressure. He has no time for a relationship. He’s about to start working eighteen-hour days. How do you see yourself fitting in? What will you take from him so he can make space for you?”
Kit has some nerve. I put my coffee on the counter next to Jihoon’s because I can feel the tension flowing down my arms, an indicator my hands are about to start shaking. I tamp down my instinctive response, which is to tell Kit to take a long jump off a short pier. He’s trying to protect his friend, I tell myself. He’s also protecting his precious StarLune and the many millions it makes him, but that perspective is less kind.
“You should ask Jihoon that,” I say.
“Jihoon tries to do his best for everyone around him, which means he gets stuck,” Kit says slowly.
“Stuck.”
“If I want to go left, you wish to go right, and he’s in the middle, how can he make everyone happy?”
I decide to be difficult. “I don’t want to go right.”
“I know you don’t want to go right,” Kit says through gritted teeth. “I’m using direction as a metaphor for the many priorities competing for his very limited time.”
“Yeah, I get that, thanks. I also know he’s an adult who came to Toronto by himself, stayed because he wanted to, and is leaving because you’re making him. None of it has to do with me, so don’t try to paint me as some Yoko Ono stealing your man because that’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“You’ve barely known each other a month,” Kit says with disgust. “You think it’s worth Jihoon risking his career for that? The dream he’s worked for since he was a teenager?”
Like I’ve worked for mine. I don’t reply.
“Do you know what the fans will do if they find out about you? You can kiss your privacy goodbye.” He eyes me. “Unless that’s what you want.”
I pick up both coffees and put Hana’s advice for dealing with asshole comments into play. “Wow,” I say, holding his gaze. For good measure, I shake my head sadly, as if thinking about what a pitiful human he is to say such a disgusting thing. “Wow.”
Then I leave.
By the time I get back to the room, I see the downside to Hana’s advice because I’m brimming with satisfying one-liners I wish I could go back to hurl at Kit. Jihoon hasn’t come out of the shower, and I pace the room before deciding not to tell him. I’m sure he’s had to deal with Mr. Interference on his own and that the message he received was similar.
The shower turns off as Yuko calls from Luxe. “I know it’s Saturday, but are you busy?”
“Yes.” This is not the proper professional response, so I try again. “I mean, what’s going on?”
“Ines needs you in Niagara. We’ve been trying to land the Hotel Xanadu as a client. She set up a last-minute wine tour for some of their important guests, but life sucks, so there might be some issues. She’d like you on hand in case of emergencies.”
I glance over my shoulder at the mussed-up bed. “It’s not the best time.” Also not professional, but this time it’s worth it.
“Ari, I’m sorry. This is a big deal for us, and we can’t risk a screwup. If you can’t go, can you suggest a colleague who can?”
That’s not going to happen; I can’t let Yesterly and Havings think I can’t handle my workload, and there’s no one I trust. “I can leave in a few minutes.” Thank God Alex had someone drive my car over from my apartment.
“I’ll send you the location and tell her you’ll be there.” Yuko hangs up.
I check around the room for my laptop, which I tuck into my bag. I’m ready to leave by the time Jihoon emerges from his shower.
He looks me over. “What happened?”
“I need to go to work.”
“Now?” His face falls.
“I’m afraid so.” I try to not feel guilty—this is work, after all, and he’s about to leave for the same reason. “It’s an emergency.”
“Can you go after lunch?”
I shake my head, thankful to have an excuse to miss lunch with Kit. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be too late.”
“Then I’ll give this to you now.” He hands me a little red box with Cartier written in gold script across the top. When I falter, staring, he flips the lid up. “This is to remind you to make time for what matters.” He smiles. “Like me. Us.”
The loveliest watch I’ve ever seen is nestled around a tiny black pillow, the little diamonds around the face sparkling under the lights from the bathroom.
“I can’t,” I say. “I can’t take this.”
“I disagree.” He takes my hand and wraps the leather band around my wrist. Damn it. Now that it’s on, all my protests die. It’s gorgeous.
Jihoon looks pleased. “I knew the style would be perfect for you.”
I’m freaking out a little, but I manage to say, “Thank you.”
He shows me his own wrist. I raise my eyebrows. “We match?”
“I like when couples dress the same back home,” he defends himself. He ducks his head, almost shy, making me laugh and tilt my head to catch his eye.
“I don’t mind matching you.” I line up our arms and take a photo. “Only for me,” I assure him. “Not to post online.”
“I trust you.” He beams, then strokes my wrist with his thumb. “I’ll miss being with you every day, Ari.”
I go up on my tiptoes to leave a kiss on his jaw, but he twists down to kiss me properly. For those few seconds, I forget about Niagara and the plane that will take him back home in a few hours. Kissing Jihoon is like entering a retreat created for the two of us.
He’s the first to pull back this time. “Don’t be late,” he says, dropping a final kiss on my head.
Now I feel like a true heel for leaving for work. “I’ll be back soon.”
He doesn’t try to stop me, and part of me wonders if I wish he would. I text a quick apology to Hana before heading for Niagara, my mind a mix of Jihoon and work.
Mostly Jihoon.
Better change that to mostly work. Work is here and now, and Jihoon will be gone soon. Work won’t.