The apologies rolled right off his tongue. Jaehwan regarded him with confusion. Despite knowing this was the equivalent of signing his own death warrant, Eunjae reached over and ended the call, hanging up on someone for the first time in his life.
His brothers stared at him, flabbergasted. Eunjae kept going. Otherwise, he’d crumble like a house of cards, call Jaehwan back, and beg for his miserable life.
“I’m going tomorrow. You don’t have to come with me, but I think you should.”
Right away, Kazu said, “I’m going.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Don’t worry about Hwannie. I’ll buy him another Baskin Robbins franchise.”
“Bribery,” hissed Kei. “Disgusting.” He didn’t opt out of going to Wanna Waffle, though, and neither did anyone else. They had a contract in jeopardy and a pile of unanswered questions about their future, but they could agree on being there in person. They could also agree that Eunjae was a dead man for hanging up on leader-nim when they’d already interrupted his lunch break, but that was a problem for later.
Eunjae turned to Denny next. “Go ahead and leave tonight. Max can drive us in the morning.”
“Nah. No telling what Eric’s gonna do when he realizes I'm gone.”
“Boss, we know you want to go.”
“Aww, man,” Namgyu said. “If you won't leave, we'll have to make you!”
“Yeah?” Denny replied, nostrils flaring. “And what's the plan there, pal? Kidnapping? Extortion? You take me down with the power of harmonious song?”
“Ha! Imagine if I knew how to do that, I could be so strong, I’d be the strongest—”
Keen to examine the scale of Prism’s campaign, Nicky had been scrolling that whole time. He came up for air just long enough to say, “Listen, Chief. If we drive down together, it'll look like you forced us to go. But if you leave first and we come later, it reads like we followed you out of loyalty. Eric can't say we’re prisoners. That's betternarrative positioning.” A big grin. “Don't you love the Prism handbook? I love the Prism handbook.”
It was a strong argument. Eunjae capitalized on the momentum. “Go home, Denny,” he said. “You're fired.”
His brothers’ mortification warranted a matching mushroom cloud, curling over the detonation point in a column of dust and debris. They were beyond appalled. First Jaehwan, and now Denny? He’d gone insane.
“You’re fired,” Eunjae said again. “We’re letting you go. You’re not tied to us anymore, and you didn’t quit, so you’re not obligated to the agency. They can only hit you with legal if you quit.” He took a deep breath, heart threatening to slam right out of his chest. “And since we terminated your employment, we owe you severance. That’s what the contract says.”
Nicky hooted with delight. “You’re doing this again? You got off on a technicality one time and now it’s your signature move? This is my boy, this is my one true son—”
That was the only positive reaction. The others instructed him to grovel at Denny’s feet without delay. When he refused to budge, not even Max could take it. “Did you hit your head? You wouldn’t be like this if you weren’t fucking concussed. I’m driving you to the hospital or whatever they have in this weird little murder town.”
“I still don’t understand why you think this is a murder town,” mumbled Jungwoo.
“You don’t understand anything. I can’t believe I’m stuck with you. I can’t believe I’m activelychoosingto be stuck with you for the next two years—”
Kei sat bolt upright on his bench. “Wait, you’re both going? What about Zenith? What about the contract?”
“It’s a murder town,” Max maintained, ignoring him. “You get stuck in a place like this and it’s automatically a horror movie. It’s too cute. It’s too nice. That’s suspicious as hell and I’ve been saying this since July.”
“Ari-hyung will be in jail stripes forever,” Jesse wailed. “I never thought I’d live to see this, I never even thought it was possible—”
Eunjae turned his back on the madness. “Thanks for everything, Den. We’ll never be able to replace you, and I don’t know how we’ll keep going without you, but this is it. Mission complete. Go home.”
He braced himself for the worst, but Denny reached out to shake his hand. The noise died down. “Mission complete,” their former manager replied. His scowl had unfurled into a smile. “See you tomorrow, Ryan.”
40
Thepaintchipswerein the drawer under the register, buried beneath layers of junk mail, paid invoices, and the printed instructions for seven different board games. At least Jiyeon knew where to look next time their Friday gaming group disputed the rules for Scrabble. She wanted to send both of her parents to buy paint, just to cut the lecture short, but they were in charge of providing breakfast for the volunteers. The job was too important to reassign.
“Walked back home from the shop,” her mother exclaimed again, waving a whisk. “Middle of the night! Walked all the way home with your bags, exactly like a crazy person!”
“Han Jiyeon. Why do this, huh? Jeannie comes to get you, that's it, you listen right away. Dad comes to get you, no. Dad brings you dinner, new magazine, picture of your boyfriend — nothing!”
“Okay, and how did you end up with one of Eunjae's photo cards? Feel like explaining yet?”
“Those cards,” said Joey, “are for collecting. I buy the CD, I get two cards. Lucky, too! So many of them, but I get lion boy on my first try?” He pointed at her. “Meant to be. That's what happened, Yeonnie.”
