“I’ve been accused of a lot of things, but ‘normal’ has rarely been one of them,” I quipped.
“Yeah, well. You heard it here first. Speak soon?”
“I mean, if you want.”
“Speak soon, then.”
The line clicked and he was gone. In the proceeding silence, I realised that I’d just talked to Tae about what was going on for far longer than I had with Jihoon in months.
The smile that had rested warmly on my face turned cold and fell away, like leaves falling off a tree at the turn of the season.
November 3rd
Two days had passed since the photos of Lee Hyejin and Min Taeyang had been splashed all over the internet, and speculations about their supposed relationship were still rife.
Outright flame-wars had ignited between all three fandoms, not helped by the near silence across the board. Only Tae’s management team had put out a statement, categorically denying a relationship, and reiterating that the meal had been an event where several others were present.
It frustrated me that Jihoon, or his team, were ignoring this opportunity to deny the rumours, and I tried to run the angles in my head – what possible motivation could there be to staying quiet and keeping that door open?
In the end, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I was tired of waiting for him to call me, so at just after ten in the morning, as I watched Mum and Dad walk down the driveway to meet their walking group, I picked up my phone and called him.
The phone rang for so long that I was just about to hang up, when the line connected.
“Jagiya,” he breathed, as though he’d been holding his breath waiting for my call.
Even though I was a little cross at him, warmth still spread through my body at the sound of his voice. The way he always called mejagiya, as though it was as much a part of my identity to him, as my full name.
“Joon,” I said in relief. “Are you okay? I’ve been worried…”
I sat down on the edge of my bed, sitting on my hand to fight the urge to bite my nails.
“I’m sorry I have not called,” he sighed. “Everything is a mess. I am so tired.”
My heart squeezed at the exhaustion I heard in his voice, but at the same time my eyebrows pinched in confusion because something about this whole situation felt… off. To quote Becka, this was not Jihoon’s first rodeo. This wasn’t even the first scandal this year. All in all, this hardly qualified as one.
Once again, I had tortured myself by thinking I knew better, and silently questioned why his team didn’t simply issue a response. I didn’t say that now, though. I clenched my jaw and swallowed the words.
Jihoon sighed again, but it seemed to get lost halfway and dissolved into a jaw cracking yawn. I wondered when he’d lastgotten a good night’s sleep. It seemed that there was always someone who wanted a part of him, and more often than not, he was contractually obliged to give it.
People often seemed to think that the famous were the freest of us all, but it seemed to be the total opposite.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I offered.
He made a grumbling noise and fell silent for so long that I took it to mean he didn’t.
It was a strange connection to make, but it made me think of Tae, and what he’d said about talking to Jihoon about my articles and my journalism course. How it might help him to have something else to focus on for a while.
Just as I opened my mouth to change the topic, he said:
“I’m so tired of getting dragged into dating rumours. I wasn’t even there!”
On second thoughts, maybe he did want to vent for a while.
“I didn’t even know about the dinner because I was not there, but I got so many messages from people who believe I was being cheated on by someone I barely ever talk to. If it had been anyone else but Min Taeyang, no one would care.” His voice was getting progressively louder, faster, his accent becoming more pronounced, that had I not been so familiar with it, I might have struggled to keep up.
“Everyone works so hard to put my name next to his. They are convinced we are rivals in all things.”
I kept the thought to myself that he wasn’t exactly helping this theory with how he acted towards Taeyang.
