“So the only way to make Ryan look more wholesome was to give him an ugly haircut?”
Denny pointed at her. “Yes!”
“But earlier, didn't you say he was the least seductive crayon in the box? I seem to remember.” Jiyeon looked over at Eunjae. “He said that, didn't he?”
Eunjae nodded, then popped another bite of cookie in his mouth. Denny glared at him. Perhaps neutrality was the wiser course, but he liked the haircut. Loyalty was the least he could give in lieu of actual payment, which she refused to accept every time he tried to offer.
“So,” Jiyeon continued, having scented blood, “by that logic, we can safely say that Ryan Kim was already pretty wholesome in appearance. He didn't need a haircut to reach peak wholesomeness. The haircut was just a bonus. Now he's wholesome with a side of charming.”
Jiyeon put another cookie on her brother’s empty plate. “Just think about how useful that will be. Do you know any aunties or grannies who don't like that combination? You'll have a line out the door and around the block.”
“Oh, lots of money. You wanted a new fridge, yeah?” Mrs. Han tapped a fork against her water glass. “Mystery Ryan, ticket to brand new fridge!”
“The haircut was a good idea,” boomed Mr. Han. “The more we change how he looks, the harder it’ll be for his enemies to find him. He’s got enemies, you know. He told me.”
“Oh, I bet he’s got enemies,” muttered Denny. But he took the cookie from Jiyeon and dumped it on Eunjae’s plate instead. “Here, have some more. It’s obvious they had you locked up in some basement.” With that, he gathered up his plate and carried it to the sink, mumbling something about Vitamin D supplements.
Eunjae got up right away. “I’ll wash the dishes.”
“No, no. Sit down, eat your cookie.”
“Lizzie is right,” said Mr. Han. He smiled slyly at Eunjae, conjuring visions of what Denny would look like in the far future. “We owe you, Ryan Kim. Now Yeonnie comes by every night again like before.”
“Someone has to make sure you people are letting him watch something other than super depressing episodes ofI Loved You,” Jiyeon replied. “But really, eat the cookie, Ryan.”
Eunjae ate the cookie and pondered his dilemma. His brothers liked to tease, calling him a lion, but he understood quite well that he wasn’t the most lionhearted person around. More often than not, he relented to outside pressure, surrendered in arguments, whipped out his white flag in a fight. Among his brothers, he was the designated peacemaker. Or, as Max preferred to call him while in a mood, the family doormat.
Eunjae just liked for everyone to get along. If this required him to serve as a bridge for the others to cross so they might meet in the middle, then so be it. And as for himself, Eunjae almost never demanded that anybody meet him in the middle. He caused no trouble. He made no waves. And he’d survived, but it was clear to him now that these tactics would not win him any chance at living. Because he hadn’t been living, not truly. Not for a long time.
If I hadn't met these people, if I hadn't found the magic, I’d leave for Korea without a fight. I’d head home and never know the rest of this story.
But he’d found them. Eunjae was here, and he still wanted to stay. There was still so much to do, so much he wanted to know. Another person he so desperately wished to be — or maybe just to discover, at least. Maybe it wasn’t too late to figure it out.
He sent a text to Jungwoo’s number.I need more time.Please try to understand.There was more he wanted to say, but he’d hurt his brother enough and he was already asking for so much. It seemed egregious to ask for more.
What felt like an eternity later, as Eunjae stood at the sink washing dishes, the phone chimed with Jungwoo’s reply:Okay.
Instantly, he felt better. But even with Jungwoo agreeing to keep his secret, the company was bound to find him. The only question was when.
If Eunjae played his cards right — what few cards he possessed — this didn’t need to happen right away. There would be no dodging his fate; he couldn’t simply vanish off the face of the planet, no matter how many times Max helpfully texted that Eunjae should fake his own death. But it was possible to buy himself some time.
“Misdirection,” he said to himself, not realizing he’d spoken this thought out loud. Denny looked up from the grocery list he was tapping into his phone.
“Yeah, I know you're misdirecting all of us, my guy. That's not news.”
Eunjae stopped scrubbing at the remains of chocolate chip cookie dough in Mr. Han’s favorite red mixing bowl. He grabbed a bar stool and sat down next to Denny at the narrow kitchen island.
“I need to ask you something.”
Denny lifted an eyebrow at least a quarter of the way up to the ceiling. “Okay, weirdo. Go for it, I guess.”
“Thank you. I was wondering —”
“Wait, you want to know why we don't just use the dishwasher, don't you? Fair question. It’s a perfectly operational dishwasher, almost brand new. Which is exactly why we can’t use it.”
Derailed from his purpose, Eunjae glanced over at the dishwasher, then back at Denny. “Hold on. What?”
“The dishwasher is for special occasions only. Birthdays, holidays, that kind of thing. Too good for everyday use. You'd have to be catering a banquet for the British royal family before Lizzie Han will let you use it.” He added something else to his grocery list. “Or, you know, the Spanish royals. The Dutch. Pick your favorite colonizers.”
