Surely it wasn’t. Couldn’t be. Nah… because. What?
“Min Taeyang?” I hadn’t meant to whisper the words, but they were just so preposterous, because why the hell would Min Taeyang, member of Sol8, another group under ENT, and Jihoon’s sometimes-rival, be calling me?
“Yeah, Pom, it’s me, keep up.”
It was the word ‘pom’ that cemented it for me. Suddenly, the Australian accent and deep voice morphed from an abstract impossibility to the reality that Min Taeyang was on the other end of the call.
We’d met the night of the Christmas ball at ENT, both of us wearing masks, random faces in the crowd. He’d been friendly, and for a moment, it had been a relief to talk to someone. He’d immediately recognised my ‘otherness’ in a room full of celebrities, and important people.
“A pom! What brings you all the way to Korea?”
“Oh, this and that.”
“Very mysterious. I like it.”
He’d held his hand out, as if I was someone worth knowing. “Taeyang, but most people call me Tae.”
“Kaiya, but most people call me Ky.”
“Good to meet you, Ky, who’s here doing ‘this and that.’”
It was the same every time we’d run into each other. He’d always treated me like we were already friends, but knowing how Jihoon seemed to feel about him, I’d always kept my distance. Even if it would have been nice to have a friend in Korea.
I couldn’t see his face now, but I could tell he was laughing at me. I mentally, and physically, gave myself a shake, trying to recall what he’d said a moment ago.
“Taeyang, why the f– sorry. Hold on, do you mean… Hana?”
“Tiny, short haired New Zealand chick, kind of reminiscent of a crocodile?”
“I always thought piranha suited her,” I said weakly.
“Both will bite you,” he replied cheerfully. “Anyway, I got your number from her. I know you used to go around with her, so Ithought it would be okay to ask if you’d left. She was very weird about it though. She seemed delighted to give me your number. That’s why I asked if you’d pissed her off. Don’t ask me exactly how to describe it, but she gave off the vibe she was doing it to get you in the shit.”
Yeah, I’ll bet she did, I thought but didn’t say.
I turned the information over in my mind, trying to see how Hana might spin this, but before I could run through the mental gauntlet of Hana’s possible motivations, my brain snagged on the part where he even wanted to speak to me.
“Why did you want my number?” I asked warily.
“Can’t a guy check in on his absent friend?” His tone had all the showmanship of a circus ringmaster.
Uh huh.
“What’s my surname?”
“Sorry, what?”
“We’re friends. What’s my surname?”
The line fell silent. I could practically hear the cogs turning in his brain.
“Yeah, okay, you got me. I have no clue.”
“I’m sure. What can I do for you, Min Taeyang?”
“So formal,” he teased, his deep voice seemed to give the impression he was grinning, if that was even possible.
“Yeah well, you’re the talent, I was just worker ant.” I said, leaning back in my chair.
