Denny rejected the notion outright. Then came his requisite speech about appropriate behavior in moving vehicles, similar to the safety demonstration provided by flight attendants. Herding Apollo out of the guesthouse, he warned that none of them would survive a scenario in which he was forced to pull over. No hostages would be taken. They’d enter an era of martial law. Guillotines, Catherine wheels, imprisonment in a tower accessible only by moat — the works.
The ruckus carried on, but in whispers. Somehow it was even more chaotic than bickering at the regular volume. Could Namgyu quit monopolizing the bathroom? Was it truly necessary for him to perform a full drama soundtrack while he was in there? And on that note, could Jungwoo please change the horrible goddamn lyrics he’d added to the one song yesterday? Why was he like this? What kind of fucking monster? But also, could Max refrain from using that kind of language around today’s youth? There was aninfantin the van with them!
Buckling his seatbelt, Ezra muttered, “I get it now. You tried to quit your job so you wouldn’t have to live with these losers anymore.”
It was like someone punched an invisible mute button. Mouths hung open all around.
“The hell’s his problem?” Max complained, breaking the stunned silence.
“Ha! But that’s so funny! Extra, extra funny, since I was born a winner. I’ve never lost at anything in my whole life!”
But Ezra had produced headphones from his backpack, a gigantic, noise-canceling pair with cushioned ear pads and flawless sound. He spent the rest of the drive ignoring them as if his continued existence depended on it, or he might become a loser by breathing the same air.
Eight weeks of this. Eunjae longed to crawl back into his sleeping bag and just stay there.
A series of videos filmed by Emma Han on the set ofSunshine 24/7: Apollo At Your Service. Select clips were later approved for use as teaser posts on Apollo’s official channels.
Emma walks through a space outfitted in muted pastels. “Welcome to Sunshine Diner,” she says, holding the camera with a practiced hand. Apollo’s logo pops up first, outlined in blue neon. Then we see walls hung with posters of crashing surf, towering redwoods, a field of California poppies. But on the wall behind the counter is a gallery featuring doors in an array of shapes and sizes and colors, and one of these is a familiar, beloved orange.
“Guess who took this picture?” Emma asks us. She points to some text on a tiny card, mounted just beneath the frame. It credits the photo toE. Song. “That’s my favorite one.” The photo, or the photographer?
She turns the camera to show the room at a wider angle. There seems to be a plant in every corner, some of these even hanging from the ceiling. Cozy booths are tucked along the perimeter, upholstered in vinyl. Bar stools line a counter with shiny chrome trim. This counter anchors the space, housing the register and an espresso machine, brand new and terriblyimpressive. The floors are black and white tile, and Emma shares that these were chosen by the owner to match the diner’s original look. The place has been around since the mid-1950s.
Next, we overhear an argument between Emma and the owner of a booming voice who absolutely does not want to open the windows due to established security protocols. After a bit of back-and-forth, Emma is told that she can lift the blinds if she wants to, when has she ever listened to him, it’s her funeral. So she does, and the glow of an idyllic autumn morning transforms the entire scene. The pastels become soft and luminous. The booths are striped in pale blue, just like a cloudless midsummer sky.
In the video that follows, it’s about an hour until call time and the blinds have been drawn again. Jungwoo is wedged into the back booth with Kazu and Jesse. The latter gossips freely as he pretends to study a menu. “And then he was like, ‘You tried to run away so you wouldn’t have to live with these losers anymore.’ I’m not making it up, that’s really what he said, hyung. Ask Zuzu. He was there.”
Kazu gathers his hair into a bun, messy in just the right way. “I was? When did this happen?”
“Ohhhh my gooossshhh. Woooorrrsstttt.”
“I think he’s jealous,” says Jungwoo, flipping his menu. “That’s what we were talking about in the other van.”
No context is provided for this snippet of conversation. The three look up when Emma approaches, then attempt to chat with her all at once.
“Noona, is the Captain just bluffing? Will there really be a quiz? I’m amazing at quizzes. That’s how I got scouted, you know. I was on a quiz show.”
Emma replies, “A quiz show. Huh.”
“Sit down for a second,” says Kazu, interrupting. He indicates the empty space next to Jungwoo, right across fromhim. Emma obliges without pausing the video. We're treated to a scenic view featuring Apollo’s father figure, so solemn, the picture of parental concern. “What did that woman say to you last night?” he asks her. “Was she rude? You should’ve called me. I was right there.”
Jungwoo laughs out loud. “Don’t listen to him. He would’ve been useless.”
“Call someone else,” Jesse concurs, eyeing his eldest brother with pure, unfiltered derision. “Oh my gosh, Zu. Like, what would you do if Leila showed up and noona called you? Lay down and play dead or something? You think that lady’s scarier than Jaehwan-hyung, you’d be crying, you’d beparalyzedwith fear—”
A whistle pierces the air. It’s Denny, mustering the troops. “Get in here. Mission brief.”
“Didn’t we already have the mission brief?” This is from Ari, now standing beside the booth with his hand outstretched. He’s offering it to Emma, waiting to help her up from the bench, but Jungwoo reaches across and latches on first. Laughter rings out.
“Did you see hyung’s face when you did that?”
“Yikes.”
There’s a grin in Jungwoo’s voice. “Oh, sorry. Thought you were here for me.”
“Ah, no.”
“Woooooowwwwwww—”
