Finished with the trays, Denny went around unplugging waffle irons, yanking the cords out of the wall with such force that Eunjae feared for the building’s structural integrity. “Do you seriously believe this guy has amnesia? Like you're really buying what our wacko parents are selling?”
Now it was Jiyeon who slammed the refrigerator shut with a bang. She glared at her brother and said, “I believe he needs our help, Den. That's all I really need to know.”
“But he can't actually have amnesia. No one is coming after him. This is not a sixteen-episode drama, it's just life.” Denny waved a fistful of spatulas at Eunjae. "So how'd you find my sister, huh? Location tags? Tracking her IP address? This is exactly why it's a bad idea to have a digital footprint, noona. I've told you a hundred times to delete everything. Any pea-brained stalker out there can find you just by downloading an app."
"Ryan," said Jiyeon, "if you're stalking me, now's the time to confess."
Eunjae shook his head furiously. Denny was not swayed. “I'm gonna figure you out, buddy. You can't hide the truth from me. I am all about the truth. The truth is my crusade.”
“I thought getting people to proofread public signs was your crusade.”
“A man can have more than one crusade!”
Jiyeon had moved into the pantry that took up the back corner of the kitchen. “What if he's just a person who needs a place to stay? What if we just helped him as best as we can? We don't know the whole story, but he hasn’t done us any harm.”
Denny trailed her into the cramped space like a chastened puppy. “I don't mind helping,” Eunjae heard him insist. “I just don't get why he has to be so weird about this. What if he's on drugs? What if he's a serial killer who specializes in small-business owners? We can’t adopt everyone who walks into the shop with floppy hair and big, empty eyes. We can’t just say they have amnesia and call it a day.”
A significant pause. “You think he has big, empty eyes? The floppy hair, sure. But you have no evidence for the eyes. You haven’t even looked.”
“Butyou’velooked?”
“Be mad all you want. I can at least back up my claims with evidence.”
Denny made an exasperated noise, then emerged from the pantry and came barreling over. Eunjae stood very, very still and tried to accept that this might be the end for him. Maybe he could still make a break for it, though. Denny was a colossus made flesh, but Eunjae had tyrannical older brothers who made everybody run wind sprints as a warm-up before performances. He figured he had a reasonable chance of escaping before he could be bludgeoned with a wooden spatula.
But Denny only scrutinized Eunjae’s allegedly big, empty eyes before making yet another exasperated noise. “Okay, you win that one. They’re not empty. I guess there’s a brain behind them. However, his eyes are purple. PURPLE!” He tossed his bouquet of spatulas into the wide, industrial sink. To Eunjae, he barked, “Why are your eyes purple, Mystery Ryan? Explain.”
“Um, they’re colored contacts.”
“Huh? Who even uses colored contacts?”
People like me who forget their normal contacts and have to borrow spares from the stylist, Eunjae answered silently. Apollo’s stylists always had a wide array of unusual colors to choose from. They might come in handy on a shoot, especially if numerous closeups were involved.
“I’m telling you, Yeonnie. Something weird is going on. Like, this guy might be a method actor, or a unicorn, or one of those freaking K-pop people. Normal people wear normal contacts. Eye-colored. Not purple.”
“Eye-colored?”
“You know what I mean!”
Eunjae took a deep breath. “Actually,” he said to Denny, tugging the mask off his face, “I am one of those K-pop people. You’re right.”
This pronouncement was met with one of the most intense stares he’d ever endured in his life. And then Denny threw back his head and laughed, a thunderous sound that somehow made Eunjae want to laugh along with him even as he went boneless with relief.
“Okay. Nice joke, well played. You can stay for now, Mystery Man. Ryan. Whatever your name is.” He stuck his head out the kitchen door and commenced hollering for his parents to hurry up. “Let’s go home!”
10
Aboutfifteenminuteslater,Eunjae climbed out of the Hans' bright red Camaro feeling half exhilarated and half seasick. Despite becoming roughly 5% less hostile since the colored contacts reveal in the kitchen, Denny had still banned Eunjae from riding with his sister. He’d practically buckled him into the seat behind Mrs. Han before hopping into Jiyeon’s car himself.
The short trip swept by in a blur. Mrs. Han, while a careful driver, was also very well acquainted with her gas pedal. As for Mr. Han, he spent the ride assuring Eunjae that he was welcome in their home for as long as he needed, and that they would all work together to see about dispelling his amnesia. Why, anything could trigger the return of those missing memories. And until Eunjae remembered who he was, he would of course be safe with them. “No one will find you,” Mr. Han bellowed. “They’ll have to go through me first.”
“That’s right!” said Mrs. Han. “Joey worked security, you know. Retired now. Best in the business!”
Mr. Han twisted in his seat, eyes narrowed. “You got enemies, Ryan Kim?”
Eunjae thought about it. Solemnly he replied, “Yes.”
“Ha! I knew it. Well, don’t worry. You’re in good hands.”
