This got Kei started on why there was nothing humorous about what hyung just said. Being funny wasn’t the same as being a complete lunatic. The bickering resumed as Eunjae and Jiyeon left the dining room, seeking sanctuary. “There’s a crane in the driveway,” she told him. “Please tell me you guys are going up on cables next.”
“Hope not.” Finishing his breakfast as they walked, he said, “Ezra had a letter to send back. Still won’t talk to me, but Dad brought it last night.”
“It's cute that he wrote back again.” Jiyeon paused to fix the patch on his chest, embroidered with his stage name and slightly crooked. “Hey, about Ezra… I think I found something. I’ll show you later.”
Outside, they found her brother and a terrified stylist. “The beret is for what purpose?” Denny inquired, scowling down at a tablet screen. “And for god’s sake, don't say sun protection.”
“I guess… well, I guess there isn't a purpose, Manager Han. It's not really there for, um, utility?”
“Correct.”
“So we should use something else…? Would you like us to pull a different hat, maybe…?”
Denny regarded the stylist through sunglasses tinted darker than the void itself. “If you know what's good for you, Yee."
“Y-yes, of course! New hat! Different hat, more sun protection!”
“Great. Moving on, who approved platform soles on these boots? Ahn can barely survive Earth's standard gravity. That's sabotage, plain and simple.” Swipe, swipe. Denny's sunglasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. “Justify the decision to wrap Ryan in random fabrics. I'll wait.”
Jiyeon chose to interrupt before the stylist dissolved into a quaking pile of bones. “What’s going on out here?” she asked her brother, squinting at the Langley House lawn. People scurriedabout with their arms full of daisies and sunflowers, mums and marigolds, yellow petals everywhere. Configurations of white vases were laid out on the grass.
“Poor logistics, that’s what’s going on. These people invent rigmarole but can't execute it.”
Those were words on the grass, Eunjae realized. The display would be photographed from above. “What do the flowers spell out? Do you know, Boss?”
A snort. “The sun is always shining. Dumbest slogan I've ever heard. Yeah, pal. That's how the sun works.” He stalked away, bellowing that anyone dressed like air crew for Candy Land Airlines was due for a wardrobe change in thirty minutes. “And quit carrying that dog everywhere, Ueda. Muscles atrophy with disuse.”
Complaints rang out. The puppy was tired. The puppy deserved a hammock, a stroller, a palanquin carried by uniformed security officers. Their little Haneul was a precious angel, why should she have to walk? And so on.
They spent the next twenty minutes watching interns arranging yellow blossoms. Sometimes a voice would shout instructions from the crane, directing staff to move this vase or that one until the photographer was satisfied. Brothers came out of the woodwork and Jiyeon stepped back to get them on video. She’d taken to collecting random scraps of B-roll, banking the short clips for later use. “You look more like mechanics,” she mused, “ but these are supposed to be flight suits, right? So you’re pilots.”
“It's whatever you want,” Nicky answered. “You like pilots? We can be pilots. You like hot mechanics? We’ll fix you up, three easy payments of $3,999. Oooh, or we could be hot janitors—”
Kei pushed him away, nauseated. “Please shut up. It's bad enough that I have to wear this.” His flight suit was a very pretty shade of lilac. Jiyeon liked it and made a point of saying so, buthe only heaved a sigh. It was just some cheap polyester blend. Noona didn't have to be so nice about it.
“Ya, ajumma. You still filming? Remember my appearance fee runs by the minute during peak season.”
Max demanded to know what the hell he meant by ‘peak season.’ Jiyeon promised that she was aware of the pricing. “You guys mind if I knock out some of my posts? Thought I’d start with Kazu. Where’d he go?”
“Oooh, but our dark prince said he’s going first—”
Kei dragged Kazu back to the group, then bolted out of range in a shameless bid for self-preservation. This didn’t save him from the sight of what their eldest brother was wearing under the flight suit. More accurately, what hewasn’twearing: a shirt.
“Ah, hyung… is the zipper stuck, or…?”
“Yeah fucking right,” Max exclaimed around a mouthful of croissant. He was on his second or third helping of breakfast and showed no signs of slowing down.
Jiyeon cleared her throat. “I think you lost something.”
“Who, me?” Kazu looked down. “Like what? Oh, the dog! No, Haneul’s fine. The interns are giving her a bath. She got mud on her little paws.”
The floodgates opened. Was he allergic to decency? Did hyung need a ride to the nearest bordello? Why did he think this was a photo shoot for an adult film poster? And the dog’s name was Gelato. How was that so hard for him to remember?
Jiyeon backed away slowly. “Hmm. This won’t work. Too many brothers.”
“Sorry,” said Eunjae. “Maybe tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll try again.” But she didn’t put her phone away just yet. “Okay, come look before you go get changed.”
