“Sssshh. I'm asking a question. This is journalism. Miss Emma, your brother over there. Single? Married? Tell me.”
“Denny's married to the business.”
“Oh my gosh,” Jesse cried out, swishing a broom back and forth in the background. “That's what I told those girls in Japan!”
“Ha! He did!”
“He told them a lot of gibberish. ‘Married desu!’ ‘Business-shimasu!’ That's not even Japanese—”
"I panicked, I thought they wanted to marryme—"
“The hell does it matter if he got the point across? Get a life, Keiichi.”
Apollo was notorious for hijacking livestreams. One brother’s broadcast became every brother’s broadcast. They took over with impressive speed, bringing all the chaos she'd come to expect from them. The episode morphed into a Denny tribute. They loved him and he was definitely not available, sorry Sunshines. Also, they loved waffles. Waffles were a superior breakfast food, and their manager was superior to all other managers, and they were going to miss Denny so much. They'd be missing him every day, forever. He wasn’t their manager. He was their friend.
Her brother gave them a wordless salute, not trusting himself to speak.
After that, the regulars started chiming in with stories of their own. Remember when Denny was little? Remember when he apprehended that shoplifter in the parking lot? Who else could claim such an accomplishment at the tender age of twelve? Then the conversation shifted to anecdotes about Wanna Waffle: bingo tournaments, breakfast for dinner, traditions kept faithfully over the years. Eric sat front and center, quietly fuming as his precious narrative took on a new and very different form.
He wanted to pull the plug, that much was obvious. He’d sensed the danger. Apollo never appeared on camera directly, and the mic stayed in front of Jiyeon, but the fans would recognize the group’s contributions nonetheless. Sunshines could pick them out by their voices, by the backs of their heads, by mannerisms and patterns of speech. Apollo belonged to their fans. Jiyeon knew this, and so did Eric.
They had a room full of people who felt right at home here. The guys were part of that audience, saying whatever they wanted. This didn’t break any of Prism’s rules. He was livid.
“I remember seeing you here,” someone said to Eunjae, then. “It was a Wednesday. You were in that booth over there.”
He nodded. “That was me.”
“You look happier now.”
“Ah, thanks,” said Eunjae, smiling. “I love it here. I always will.”
“Are you staying for good?”
An auntie from Sunday mahjong took the liberty of answering that question. “Pay attention, Candace. He’s marrying the daughter. That’s what I heard from Joey.”
“Lizzie’s daughter? Lizzie-ah, you’ll let someone marry Emma? You didn’t want anybody marrying Janie—”
“What about the rest of them? What’s happening next?”
The members of Apollo searched the crowd for one another. Wordlessly, they seemed to come to an agreement. Kazu was leader, so they let him say it. “We don’t know yet,” he replied, “but that’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”
Eric was out of his chair in an instant, gone pale with fury. “Stop recording. I need to speak with Miss Han.”
43
Inthekitchen,Ericsaid, “I just need to speak with Miss Han.”
Eunjae sat down next to Jiyeon. “Go ahead.”
“Yeah. Start talking.” Denny loomed over the table with the coffeepot in his humongous hand. Scalding liquid sloshed into Eric’s mug. No one had ever performed basic customer service with such an undertone of menace.
Eric looked around, halfheartedly sipping coffee. “Isn't there anywhere else we can do this? An office, maybe?”
“Oh, sure,” said Jiyeon. “This is our office. Welcome.”
This spurred some grumbling. “She's kidding. Get the hell out.”
Denny commanded the interlopers to either come in or get out of his sight. Six out of seven eavesdropping Apollo members tumbled into the room. Nicky requested a third option: staying right where he was, thereby absorbing gossip from two rooms simultaneously. Permission was denied.
