Jooney spoke up, fighting the urge to laugh. “Take it easy on them, Ma.”
“Yeah, Auntie. Can we avoid offending the biggest names we’ve ever had on the show? Could you chill out, maybe?”
“Frederica, who needs to chill out? It’s not me. Stop looking at the tall boy with the grumpy face. Go to the fridge, put an ice cube on your head. Chill out! Pah!”
Some shooing motions, and then Maisie resumed her barrage. “Now, what was I saying…? Oh, yes! Weddings. We will have eight weddings. No, nine! Nine men in this group, so many. And Miss Emma, you andEunjaego first, already very cozy together so why not—”
A minor scuffle ensued as Jooney went diving into the booth, spouting apologies. Jiyeon didn’t catch any of those. She had her hands full just trying to keep her own parents from inserting themselves into the dialogue. Eunjae discovered a great many things in the process, such as when they planned to march him down the aisle (“One year from now! Lots of time to plan a wedding!”) and where he would be living afterward (“Apartment upstairs is still empty, very convenient, good location!”)
He dumped his jean jacket, eyeing the thermostat with longing. So warm!Who goes down with heatstroke in the middle of November?said Invisible Jaehwan, despairing of him. Eunjae considered fleeing to the kitchen, but it was then that Denny signaled to Jiyeon, the shop’s security cameras pulledup on his phone. “Perimeter breach,” he intoned. “You or me, Yeonnie?”
“I’ll go.” Jiyeon glanced at Eunjae. This was earlier than planned. They’d hoped to get at least half of this recorded before Prism caught on.
She got up and answered the door. “Hi, Eric. Why don’t you come in?”
42
Atfirst,Jiyeonthoughtit was a different Eric. He'd dressed to blend in with their volunteers, a mix of restaurant regulars and family friends. This meant eschewing Prism teal in favor of jeans and a plain sweatshirt, but it was definitely him, armed with his tablet and that wan, forgettable smile. Not branded today, but on brand just the same.
No one said a word when he came in, but Uyu was right outside, barking up a storm. She pulled so ferociously on her leash that Ezra lost his grip on it. “She doesn't like that guy,” he said, snatching her up in his arms. Uyu squirmed free, little legs pumping, reaching her quarry in two bounds. Or she might have, if Denny hadn't plucked her from the floor and saved Eric’s life in the process.
Namgyu clapped. “Aww, good job, Snowball!” Someone hissed that Prism could use anything against them. Jiyeon drew a deep breath, then let it go. That was true.
She'd thought long and hard about how to offset the damage. It wouldn't be enough to shout the truth by themselves, regardless of the reach they had. Millions of followers or not, Apollo could lose access to their official channels at any time, linked to their fans by digital threads too easily severed. They had to find another way to tell this story. They had to be louder than Eric.
Yet again, she'd found the answer through Emma. Based on Jiyeon’s experience online, authenticity was key. Audiences might be transfixed by a pristine, curated product, but it wasn’t perfection that sparked connection. Apollo's fans loved spontaneous content even more than they loved high budget, professionally produced music videos.
Eric couldn't control candid moments, and he couldn't control the flow of a conversation. Jiyeon knew of a podcast built on both. She'd liked the atmosphere atOmma Gosh!when she joined them as a guest, long ago. They were funny and friendly. When Freddie said they could do it, Jiyeon felt instant relief. Resources. Thank goodness she had them.
Unscripted, unpredictable, potentially messy. They'd have no time to shine this up or even record it in an actual studio. Their episode would give Prism nightmares. Jiyeon made no secret about offering the interview, praying it would goad Eric into action. He'd have to stop them from doing this, right?
“Amazing atmosphere out there,” Eric said then, always so congenial on the surface. “What an engaged community. I’m in awe, Miss Han. To build something like this, onlineandin the real world? You should be very proud. What a valuable skill.” He motioned to a stack of chairs. “You're free to carry on whenever you’re ready, but do you mind if I sit in?”
Max mumbled that he did mind, thank you very fucking much, but Jiyeon bit back every rude thing she wanted to say. She nodded at her brother, who transferred the puppy to Kei,surrendered his own seat… and then planted himself behind Eric like a human doomsday countdown.
Their unwanted guest maintained composure, at least outwardly. “Please, get back to what you were doing. I'm sure at least some parts of the episode will be allowed to air. In the future, please note that we do require advance notification of any media appearances. There's a process. We'd like to be aware of these things beforehand instead of finding out through social media.”
“Could've saved yourself a trip,” Jiyeon said, waving at some mahjong ladies through the big dining room window. “This isn't an interview with Apollo. It's an interview with me, and I'm not one of your clients.”
She saw it: the tiniest, hairline crack in Eric’s composure. “But your contract with the production company does specify—”
“That Prism has to clear any and all media appearances,” Eunjae cut in. “Also says she's only required to go through you if the interview relates to Apollo. It doesn't.”
"They came to cover the event. Sorry for any confusion."
Eric’s smile went taut, a string in danger of snapping. And he probably had more tricks up his sleeve, but by moving to intercept them here, he'd also given Jiyeon the home court advantage. Aunties were streaming into the restaurant now, and uncles in faded baseball caps, and her dad’s buddies from the bowling alley. Wanna Waffle had sponsored their tournament gear. The shirts were blue and orange, with a huge waffle on the back.
Apollo members dashed to take the chairs down. Mrs. Garza’s grandkids swarmed around Kei, who still had custody of Uyu. They peppered him with questions in English. He inched closer to Max, his eyes telegraphing an urgent wish for subtitles.
“This has to be the whole neighborhood,” Lizzie joked in Korean, but Jiyeon knew it wasn't. Arthur was conspicuouslyabsent from this gathering. Hours ago, he’d sent her a message that said,Hey Emmie. Won't be there today. I thought that might be the best way I could help.
It was the closest to an apology she’d ever get from him, so Jiyeon had written back that she appreciated it.You're helping. Thanks, Arthur.
His absence meant one less weapon that Prism could use against her. That was a win. And they were still winning, because Eric didn’t like the live audience. His gaze darted from screen to screen. Almost everybody had a phone, and almost everybody was using it. They'd generate photos, videos, status updates. Not even Prism could smother that much content before it spread organically, outpacing their efforts.
Eric excelled at polished statements, every word in the right place, the story pieced together in a controlled and orderly manner. But this was a story about real people, happening in real time, and stories didn't come out clean and tidy by default. They just didn't work that way. Life didn't work that way. This was a mess.
Jiyeon reclaimed her spot in the booth, ready to give Eric an even bigger mess. “We’re back,” Jooney announced. “Folks, it's Waffle Wednesday and we're here with Emma Han to talk about—”
