“Was?” he said, “so it’s official then, you’re not coming back?”
“So concerned about my career, buddy?”
“Of course! We’re friends. Which means you can just call me Tae.”
“Right. So, allow me to ask again; what can I do for you, Tae?”
He laughed, the sound so unaffected, so infectious, that I couldn’t help but smile in response. Just a little.
“Okay, okay,” he relented, “I do have something specific I wanted to ask you, but can’t we just shoot the shit for a while? I’ve had a hell of a day and I’d love to just… not for a while.”
“Not what?” I asked.
“Y’know, not be ‘on’. Not perform for a while.”
“What makes you think I don’t expect you to perform? Dance, monkey boy, dance.” I deadpanned.
Tae laughed, a loud and raucous sound that made me pull the phone away from my ear, even as I grinned.
I don’t know what it was about Min Taeyang, but there had always been this element of ease with him. From our first accidental meeting, to each subsequent run-in. He was an artist. One did not just casually strike up a friendship with a celebrity. I couldn’t put my finger on it. He was just… approachable.
“I knew I was right about you,” he said cryptically, interrupting my confusing train of thought, but before I had a chance to ask what he was on about, he went on. “Okay, so the real reason for my call is that I want to know what your boyfriend’s problem with me is.”
Again, my brain short-circuited. It was a double whammy – the reference to my boyfriend, and the wider question of Jihoon’s problem with him. He wasn’t supposed to know about us, but I had already guessed he’d figured it out when he saw us together at the ball. The way Joon had grabbed my hand and pulled me away, to say nothing of how possessive he’d acted hadn’t exactly been subtle.
Sighing, and deciding against playing dumb, I said, “What makes you think he has a problem with you?”
Jihoon absolutely did have a problem with Taeyang.
“He basically body slammed me out of the elevator today.”
I let out a bark of surprised laughter.
“It really wasn’t that funny,” he grumbled.
“It’s a little bit funny,” I chuckled, but attempted to ease my mirth for the sake of our ‘friendship’.
“Okay, okay,” I said, clearing my throat and pushing down residual giggles from the absolute absurdity of this whole conversation. “Honestly, Tae, I have no idea what that was about. I haven’t spoken to him today. What did you do to piss him off?”
“Nothing! I was just standing there, minding my own business when he gets on the elevator and scowls at me. We both go to get out, and he slams into me so hard that I nearly fell. Mega dick move.”
I grimaced, imagining the scene, a little less funny in the retelling.
“I really don’t know, Tae. I know… I know he doesn’t think too well of you,” I said tentatively, reluctant to speak about a feud I wasn’t fully informed about. Joon had only really given me the impression that he thought Tae was bad news because of his playboy reputation. But to me, it had seemed more personal than that.
“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Tae sighed. “I don’t wanna make this awkward for you, Pom. I’m not trying to get you to tattle on your boyfriend. I guess I was just hoping it was something obvious and easy to fix.”
“Yeah, you might have to actually talk to him to find out,” I teased.
“No way,” he protested, “he might throw me off the building next time!”
I bit my lip and opted to keep quiet.
“Ah shit,” Tae said suddenly. “I gotta go, Pom. Speak soon!”
I opened my mouth to say, ‘why?’ but the line disconnected before the word made its way to my tongue.
I didn’t mean to not tell Jihoon about the call from Taeyang, but every time I spoke to him, he was exhausted from working, or just feeling down.
