Tae grabbed his chest and swayed dramatically.
“Am I not good enough for you, Ky?”
“Oh stop,” I laughed, chucking a pillow at him.
“To be honest, mate, I told everyone you just wanted to interview me.”
He had the good grace to look a bit abashed, which was convenient, as it made me feel less aggrieved at the missed opportunity.
“Why?” I asked, tilting my head to study him.
“Because I wanted to see my friend, and I knew that with all of us here, it would turn into just another interview, and we’d be rushed into finishing. We’re not staying in the UK. We’re on a plane back to Korea in the morning .” He fiddled with his phone, spinning the device around in his fingers.
Just for a moment, the soft lightning fell into every crease and line on his face, highlighting every missed hour of sleep, every hour spent drilling choreo. Underneath all that stage makeup I saw Tae. The person who really did just want a friend he didn’t have to pretend with.
“Okay then, whats say you and me get these questions out the way and then we empty those fridges?”
He looked up sharply, and then it was like his whole damn face lit up.
“Let’s do it!”
Because I was so familiar with what a reader might want to know about K-Pop, and about being a K-Pop performer, it didn’t take long to get through my list of questions. To his credit, Tae was a consummate professional throughout the interview.Aside from continuing to drink, he was exceptionally composed. Despite his reputation as a bit of a bad boy, it was clear to see he had been debuted for a reason. He’d obviously excelled at what Hana used to call ‘idol school’ – which was essentially the gruelling process of moulding human beings into exceptional, camera-ready idols.
Watching him then, pieces fell into place, and my eyes narrowed.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He laughed, lifting his second bottle of beer to drink.
“I think I just figured something out, and I’m embarrassed to admit it took me this long.”
Having concluded my interview, I was now also sat on the floor, nursing my own bottle.
Tae snorted. “Oh yeah? Well, don’t be shy.”
I pointed the neck of my bottle in his direction. “I don’t think you deserve your reputation.”
He scoffed. “Which one?”
He rolled his eyes a second before he rolled his shoulders, the muscles flexing obviously through the thin layer of his t-shirt.
“Any of them?”
He paused, flicking his eyes over to me. Despite our friendliness, our relationship had always been surface-level.
“Ooft.” He grinned, “don’t go around announcing that. I’ve got several images to uphold.”
“Did you choose your reputation?” I asked carefully, “Or did it get assigned to you?”
Tae held my gaze for a while, and I could tell he was trying to decide how to answer. To go deeper, or stay surface level.
“Who am I talking to right now?” He asked in a flat tone. “Ky? Or Kaiya Thompson ofFrequency?”
Coming from the person who’d pursued this friendship beyond bounds of propriety, the question should have been funny, and it might have been, were it not for the guarded look in his eyes, the firm set to his shoulders that looked more like he was bracing for a blow rather than an answer.
In response, I slid my phone out of my pocket and in full view, turned it off. Next, I walked over to the mini-fridge, pulled out two more beers, popped the lid off one and handed it to him before sitting back down on the floor.
He rolled the bottle between his hands and looked at me speculatively.
“Okay,” he said after a long moment. “The thing that no one knows about us is that most of this-” he vaguely indicated to himself, “exists way before we do. I mean…” he looked away, eyebrows pulling together. “The group, the concept, the group roles, all of that is chosen way before the members themselves. People think it’s the other way around.” He scoffed. “Maybe in some groups it is, but for us, there was always gonna be the ‘bad boy’, and I just happened to fall neatly into that role.”
