As he finished the last few bites of his lunch, lukewarm sunshine spilled through the window and onto the tabletop, balancing the cold fluorescent lights. There was something satisfying about the four sets of dishes arranged on green plastic trays, four key cards on green lanyards, four jackets in a pile on the far side of the bench. Eunjae stopped eating and took a picture.
He meant to send it to Jiyeon. This didn’t happen because somebody had to hurry and catch Max’s pencil before it rolled onto the floor, and then somebody had to intervene before Nicky got himself decked with a cheap book of crossword puzzles. Kei certainly wasn't lifting a finger. He had yet to even look up from his magazine.
“Look, why are you getting so mad at me?” Nicky had his legs stretched across his part of the bench, bright orange hair freshly dyed, an insouciant little smile on his face. “I'm only reading what other people wrote. It's not like these are my opinions.”
Max tossed the pencil again. It hit the table with a violent thwack. “Fuck right off, hyung!”
“Okay, maybe it's time to get off Star-Connect,” said Eunjae. “We’ve gone through a lot of comments already.”
Without missing a beat, Nicky replied, “And we should go through some more. Like this one! Oh, this one is good.” He cleared his throat. “Shop window couple! This is a PR ploy and I'm sick of it. Max should be deported to Texas, there's no reason for him to be here anymore.”
“Texas…?”
“Shop window couple…?”
“It's what people say when the relationship seems fake,” said Kei, turning to the next page. “Lots of Sunshines think you’re just dating for the attention.”
“Not everybody thinks it's fake. See, this one says Max’s obsession with Hazel is the most romantic thing they've ever seen—”
A woman's voice cut in, disembodied, speaking perfect English. “How can he be obsessed with her?” this voice demanded, startling three of the four people at the table and sending one of them into gales of laughter. “He barely knows this Hallie person. I think Madison’s right and we should sue. This has gone on too far, bubs.”
Max gawked at Nicky. “Why the hell are you on the phone with my sister?” he exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “How do you even have Mikaela’s number?”
“That's just how this works. If she's your sister, I have her number.” Nicky's smile widened into a grin. “Isn't it so funny?”
“You're insane,” hissed Kei, the magazine forgotten now.
“Nah. Mostly just bored.”
“What the actual, honest fuck!”
“Stop shouting in public,” scolded Mikaela. “And why’s Dad saying you won't have Heather with you this weekend? Shouldn't you bring her home to meet us? You've been dating for months now, you're practically engaged—”
“Her name is Hazel! I've said that a million times, and there's no way in hell I'm bringing her with me. Give up! Get a life! Leave me alone!”
“Holly, Hannah, whatever. Don't change the subject, Max. Why do you think it's okay to shack up with some random actress you only met once?”
“Shack up—”
“I'm telling you that it bothers me. It's the most bizarre thing you've ever done in your whole life. I could accept some kind of one-night-stand situation, but this is pushing it.”
Nicky had his head pillowed on both arms by this point, laughing himself hoarse. Kei seemed on the verge of fleeing the room. Fellow diners had started to take notice, the commotion drawing eyes and ears. Eunjae mopped up a puddle that sloshed out of his water glass when Max jostled the table. He whispered, “We need to take her off the speaker.”
Max went a mile further and wrestled the phone away. “Bye!” he told his sister. “Go to bed! Goodnight!” He punched the button to hang up, then launched himself at Nicky, a dozen expletives poised to tumble out of his mouth. But that was as far as he got, because Denny materialized behind him, foreboding as a thundercloud blotting out the sun.
None of Apollo’s other managers had ever been as efficient, or as frightening, as Denny Han. Persuading him to take the job was the smartest decision they’d made since debut. Under Denny’s reign, the dorms became a bastion of structured schedules and flawless sleep hygiene. He delivered everyone to their events on time, in one piece, and appropriately clothed. The unbridled menace of his glare was enough to kill any suggestion of outlandish diet plans or stylist selections involving mesh. How they’d go back to living without him, Eunjae had no idea.
Now, Denny’s gaze swept over the table, scrutinizing each of them in turn. A frosty silence descended, changing the barometric pressure in this corner of the room. “Moriyama,” he said. “You’ve been known to read a calendar correctly. What’s on the docket today?”
Kei sat up straighter. “Captain! We have a meeting in fifty-seven minutes, Captain!”
“Correct. Make sure Hong gets to the right conference room this time. You’ll need to bring this one, too.” He rousted Nicky off the bench while Kei’s enthusiasm deteriorated instantly. “Help Moriyama with these trays. You’re going from Point A to Point B, no detours. Until then, keep your hands where I can see them,” he added, “or else.”
“Oooh, or else what?”
“Try me and find out, bucko.” Next, Denny pointed at Max. “Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in the studio with Shakespeare. Working lunch, no breaks, no fraternization.”
“Ah, Jungwoo goes by Orpheus in the song credits… not Shakespeare…”
