“Oh my god.” Lia clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh as Cal started to yell things in Korean to protest. They finally ushered themselves inside, in between putting the cakeon the kitchen island, arranging the luggage, taking off shoes, more yelling, it was all chaotic.
But it was the kind of chaos that made Lia feel like she was a part of something, and she caught herself looking at Cal from a distance, the two of them sharing a secret smile like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Welcome home.” He grinned at her. “You know if this was a drama, we would be a little bit married.”
“You wish,” she lied again, the words coming out before she could catch herself, because oh my god,she’dwished. Had, in fact, thought it so many times, joked about it enough that she and Megan had headcanoned their wedding (tasteful and elegant, with a midnight blue theme) and called him “husband.”
Lia Mertola was so fucked.
THREE
SILVER SPRINGS - FLEETWOOD MAC
“Your cat’s name is butt?”
Lia chuckled from inside her bedroom as she continued to unpack her stuff. In true fashion of a person who didn’t care about creases in his clothes, Teddy was already in the living room with the band, leaving Lia to acclimate to her new bedroom. At least for the next 90 days.
Cal Ahn’s Hannam apartment with the ridiculously expensive jeonse was a three-bedroom, two-bath. Huge for one person, but snug enough for three. The house was cozy, if a little cold. Either Cal hadn’t fully locked in the style yet, or he was intentionally going for a minimalist Japanese look, with soft textures on the lighting shades and a couch that Lia would have been happy to sleep on, but little else. The only other big furniture piece in the house was the media area in the living space, with a massive TV, three different gaming consoles, a collection of games (he still bought cartridges, which Lia found endearing), and the previously promised record collection with the record player and speakers.
But then again, what else would you put in a house that had the most stunning view? It really was different up on these hills,looking out into the city, to the river, and the mountains way beyond that.
He had three bedrooms: two on the right side, along a hallway with a shared bathroom, and one at the end of the hall, which Lia presumed was the master. She had an odd feeling that her space wasn’t usually a bedroom—there was something about a particular scratch on the wall that told her something had been hastily moved. But as Cal had promised, her bedsheets were new. So was the bed. And the towels.
The bed took up most of the space, but there were also albums lined up like books on a shelf behind the bed—most of them from idols Lia recognized, some she didn’t, and all of them signed with a personal message. There was a standing lamp with a rice paper frame, a small wardrobe (also new? it had a new smell that maybe Lia was imagining), and a little wind chime made of glass balls hanging by the window.
Not a bad place to hide away in.
And she’d looked out of her window and felt…comforted by the change of scenery. There was an unreal, picturesque quality to it. Something different, something new. As temporary as this was, it made the ache in her chest ease a bit.
She checked her phone as she had been since she set her appointment, glancing at the calendar notification just to make sure it was still there.Scheduled therapy session, tomorrow at 10am. Her first in a year. She hadn’t told either of her siblings about it, and beyond them, there was no one else to tell.
Because nobody cares, and now you have to pay someone to talk to you about it.A voice in her head said, and Lia frowned, nipping the thought in the bud.
There was a knock on her door, and she jumped back in surprise. Right. Korea. Cal’s house.
“Um…yes?” she asked. Soobin’s head popped into the room, dimples on both his cheeks as he smiled.
“We have lunch?” He asked politely, and Lia could hear laughter float from the living room behind him. Lia slipped her house slippers back on and followed Soobin to the living room, assuming they were heading out.
But, to her surprise, there was food on the coffee table—an array of side dishes from open Tupperware containers, kimchi, cubes of radish, flavored fried chicken and bowls of rice for each of them. Lia would later learn that Soobin was a great cook, but was terrible at portion control. Banchan always eventually ended up at the other members’ houses.
“Deonggi is affectionate!” Cal was explaining to Teddy. “Like calling your best friend ‘hoy panget,’ when you see them.”
“Pang-et,” Siwan repeated, laughing.
“Chingoo! Come sit with us,” Soobin exclaimed, and Lia had to pause to contain her kilig at Soobin referring to her as a ‘same-aged friend.’
It was nice and comfortable, and wherever they ordered chicken from deserved all the customers, because it was really delicious. She did her best not to say much, partly because she was tired, but mostly because she just liked watching CoBOLT interact—they liked to tease but they were clearly proud of each other’s achievements (Soobin was going for a new role, and was asking his hyungs’ help with some of the English) and loved to talk about music with Teddy, fighting over the music controls to show off their favorites.
They ended up with Lia and Teddy sitting on the high stools by the kitchen island, Soobin washing utensils, Siwan cutting cake and Cal making coffee.
“Minseo hyung is kind of set in his ways, I agree,” Cal was saying—Lia definitely hadn’t been distracted watching him work his espresso machine like an expert. Nor had she wanted to curl up into a ball and sob when Cal smoothly switched between Korean and English. “But he’s been a musical director with theagency for fifteen years. With us for ten. He kind of knows what works.”
“Yes, but I would rather get a trainee who’s played for three years than a musical director who refuses to let us try anything new,” Siwan scoffed, speaking in English for Teddy’s benefit, she supposed. He popped a blueberry in his mouth. “And the agency is acting like they’re doing us a favor by sending him as a sessionist. Please. The trainers told me they were happy to turf him off to us.”
“Is this the guy they’re getting to fill in for—” Teddy didn’t get the name in, but Lia knew who.
“I don’t think the agency actually expected us to get good at playing.” Siwan laughed in a kind of bitter, haughty way. “You heard him earlier. Pretty faces play pretty. Fuck. I can be pretty any day. Also the BOLTs like it when I bite my lip when I play, okay. I’ve seen the threads.”
