Their boat was a plain, boxy variant designed for practicality over whimsy. The others were shaped like swans, but also ducks and flamingos, even a dragon. Jiyeon argued that the ducks were cute. Denny countered that their eyes were big, empty, and psychotic. Meanwhile, before making the return jog uphill, Jungwoo paused to apologize.
“For what?”
“I hope you never find out.” Somehow, his expression came across as regretful and wistful at the same time. “Anyway, have fun. Maybe Max will stop yelling in the chat about all the date nights you’ve had to miss.”
“He’s been yelling about that?” In the group chat? When?
But Jungwoo took off in a hurry, shooed into the night by their manager. On the seat next to Eunjae, Jiyeon braced her feet against the pedals as their boat slipped free of its moorings. Her brother made short work of the knots.
“Forty-five minutes, Yeonnie. I’ve made the arrangements.” He pointed at Eunjae. “Don’t drown. We’re driving tomorrow.”
They did get the weekend off, then. That was good news. Mission accomplished, Denny turned to go. Eunjae called to him at the last second.
“Boss,” he said. “I know it's too busy right now, but I thought… if you're still offering, I do want to find her. Vivian, I mean.”
His manager slowed to a stop. Trading a loaded glance with Jiyeon, he replied, “Changed your mind, huh?”
Eunjae nodded, although it was more complex than just changing his mind. He supposed it was also a change of heart. “I won't bother her. I'd be happy just seeing that she's out there, and knowing she's okay. If we could find her, that would be enough.”
A snort. “Ifwe can find her? Ryan, come on. Believe in the network. Trust the resources.”
Jiyeon reached for Eunjae’s hand. “Of course we’ll find her. Don’t worry.” And then they were off, pedaling slowly, the shoreline receding behind them.
The seats were cold, no cushions, but they found a blanket in the bag Denny had packed. Folded into a tidy square, it was the most glaring shade of yellow known to man. “Vacuum-metalized polyethylene,” Eunjae read out from the label. “Windproof, waterproof, heat-reflective. Designed to boost odds of survival and rate of rescue.”
“Oh, goodness.” Jiyeon peered inside, examining the rest of their provisions. “Why did he think we’d need a fire-starting kit…?”
Out on the water, the night felt impossibly vast, its edges distant and undefined. This was the most solitude they'd managed in ages. There were no brothers and no producers and no cameras. They worked the pedals, finding balance, falling into a rhythm underscored by comfortable silence. The breeze had died; they pedaled to the center of the lake, until thefairgrounds felt like a world removed, and then they allowed the boat to simply drift.
Eunjae had a hundred, hundred things he wanted to tell her. The words that tumbled out were not his first choice, but also felt like the only choice.
“Ezra thinks I left because this was my dream. Mum told him it’s what I’ve always wanted. And he thinks Vivian tried to ruin that for me, that she’s this terrible person.”
“But that’s not true,” Jiyeon said. “Did you say that? Did you tell him?”
He shook his head. “How?”
“He’d listen, Eunjae. Give him a chance—”
“I can’t!” He stared out at the lake, tracking moonbeams as they skipped like stones across the surface. “It’s like Ezra’s had a different mum all this time. He doesn’t see what I see. Even if he doesn’t believe me, there’s no going back. He’d never be able to look at her the same way again. How can I be the one to tell him? Why does it have to be me?”
Jiyeon didn’t have an answer for that. Of course not, because who would?
“What if Mum’s doing it again? Everything she did with me… all the choices she took away… what if she takes them from Ezra, too?”
Without hesitation, Jiyeon replied, “She won’t. You’d never let that happen.We’dnever let that happen.”
If they floated any longer, they’d drift off course. He missed a beat, leaving her to handle it alone for the barest fraction of a second, and the boat listed to the right immediately. Eunjae hurried to pick up the rhythm. As usual, he was the one who slipped and lost balance. He was the one holding them back.
She didn’t call him out for it. She just kept going. When strength was needed, when there was something to be solved or mended, it was her hand that held them steady. And did shehave a choice? His brother, his career, his relationship. Across the board, Eunjae had no idea what he was doing.
“Your brother deserves to know what really happened,” Jiyeon said, her gaze locked on the opposite shore. He heard her sniffling. “Tell him the truth. I know he’ll believe you.”
“He won’t. He hates me.”
“Ezra doesn’t hate you. That’s not true, either.” Her eyes were bright with tears. She regarded him with such sorrow that he wanted to apologize for being the cause of it, no matter how unintentionally. And then she said, “Lose the vest.”
Eunjae thought he must have misheard her, what with the sudden, deafening roar of his pulse. “Lose the vest,” she repeated, shrugging out of her own. “It’s in the way.” A tear rolled down her cheek. Jiyeon scrubbed at it with the heel of her hand. Fiercely, she said, “Please. I need to hug you. No one will see, it’s dark, and it doesn’t have to be for long—”
