Denny had entered the room with a level of stealth more commonly attributed to cat burglars and assassins. Behind him, Max spotted Jaehwan and attempted to bolt. This attempt failed. While the others clamored over the bags containing their dinner, Eunjae tried to remember the telltale signs of cardiac arrest. How did Denny manage to sneak up on him so often?
“Ryan.” A pair of chopsticks passed back and forth across his field of vision. He looked down to find a plate under his nose, loaded with food. Denny had a drink for him, too. “Eat,” came the gruff command. “You’re running on empty.”
He had no appetite, but Eunjae did as he was told. In his head, he worked on how to properly apologize for the myriad ways in which his fame complicated the lives of those around him. Was there anything that it couldn’t ruin?
“Hey,” said Denny, reading his mind. “Quit blaming yourself. You don’t get to take credit for every catastrophe. I’m the one who should be sorry, yeah? Yeonnie told me you don’t talk to Leila. I was supposed to have that handled.”
In a rush, Eunjae said, “It’s okay. That’s… I mean, she’s my mum. She should be my problem and nobody else’s.”
“Nah. She should figure out what I mean when I say ‘by appointment only.’” Denny confiscated Jesse’s cup before he could trip and spill its contents on an unsuspecting Jungwoo. “It’s my job to screen your calls. I’m your manager until the end of November.”
“You’re my friend,” said Eunjae. “A really good one. Thanks, Den.”
A grunt. Translated into words, it meant something along the lines of, “You’re welcome.” But then he also went on to say,“You know that nice lady who raised you? We should look for her. See how she’s doing.”
“Miss Vivi?” Her name came with a rush of memory, images bound up in songs and stories, in the scent of lemon soap. Just like always, it hurt to think of her. It hurt less, though, and in a different way.
“Bet I could track her down. Just say when.”
Jaehwan clapped his hands, calling the room to attention. “One last dance practice,” he announced. “Let’s make it count.”
Thunderous applause. “Shine bright!” Jesse yelled.
“SHINE BRIGHT!”
Kazu’s face crumpled again. “Shine bright,” he echoed, sniffling into Eunjae’s shoulder.
“Here’s what’s happening: you’ll go shoot the second season for eight weeks. We’re negotiating for reasonable hours and time off in November for the wedding in Tokyo. Cameras in common areas only. If we can swing it, those stop rolling by 10:00pm. No guarantees, though.” He rubbed at his temple. “Just keep your heads down. Do what Prism tells you to do. We hired them to help us, so let them do their thing.”
“Yeah, Max. Do what Prism tells you to do. Break up with Hazel and give her back to Jungwoo so we can all live in peace—”
“Why the fuck should I break up with her just because they want me to? It’s my life.”
“Don’t break up with her, then,” snapped Kei. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t drag the rest of us into the mess with you.” With a clatter of cutlery, he added, “You too, Ari. They want you to stay away from Emma-noona, so listen to them. It’s just for two months. Put up with it.”
Jungwoo murmured that a workaround was more than possible. He offered the words as reassurance, but Eunjae stared down at his plate, not trusting himself to speak.
“Keiichi, be nice,” Namgyu said, appalled. “It’s just too sad. I love them so much. They belong together.”
“We belong to our fans.” Jaehwan issued this reminder with gentleness, even a measure of regret, but his words bore the honed edge of a knife. “They got us this far. They’ve believed in us all this time. We promised them we’d stay together, and we will. We’ll make that happen no matter what.”
7
“I’llberightthere,honey. This phone never rings until I’ve got someone in the chair.”
“I’m fine,” Jiyeon called back, tucking the phone away. “Don’t worry about me.”
At Gloria’s, Jiyeon was always eight years old again. Time began evaporating as soon as she walked in. She’d imagine the years drifting to the floor, clipped away with all her split ends. Then the elapsed decades would be swept aside, along with an inch or two of Jiyeon’s hair, and she’d leave the salon feeling so much younger. Lighter, too. Brand new.
She wasn’t supposed to get a haircut today. In fact, she came here specifically to give her mom a ride back to Ivy Lane, nothing more. But of course Gloria and Angie weren’t going to be satisfied with that. It had been a long while since she came for a visit. Hence, the interrogation.
“How old is he?” asked Miss Gloria, sipping at her afternoon Diet Coke from the gas station down the street. “This new guy.”
“We’re the same age, Auntie.”
Gloria allowed this to percolate for a moment. The answer seemed to have met her approval, because she moved on to the next question. “And he’s from around here?”
“Sort of. San Bernardino. That’s where his family lives.”
