Chapter 7
SEVEN
LOVE YA! - HYUKOH
“Sounds good.” Lia nodded, already making a note on her planner, balanced on the lap that wasn’t occupied by her tablet.
Yes, she took notes during therapy sessions.
It helped to remember, and it was interesting to see what her brain had decided was important.
“I kind of feel bad taking your time. And I’m really just a person who can afford therapy trying to deal with settling. ”
“It’s my job, Lia. And it matters to you, so it matters. I wouldn’t say settle,” her therapist reminded her. “Life is always going to move and change. So are you. Part of living is being able to keep moving forward to new things, new experiences and people. There will always be tomorrow.”
“That’s…actually very reassuring,” Lia acknowledged.
After making sure they were both on the same page with the schedule and a few polite sign-offs, Lia turned off her tablet and took a deep inhale of the cool air of the autumn morning.
There was a bite to it now, a hint of the winter to come, although that was still weeks away.
For now, there was autumn in all her orange and yellow glory.
She was sitting with her ankles crossed on a park bench, nothing to accompany her but the rustling leaves and the city still coming to life around her.
She walked to the bakery at the end of the street, up a surprisingly tall hill.
It was a single-story place, all floor-to-ceiling windows and brick.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the window.
She saw her nose, red from the cold, eyes still wet from talking about her feelings.
Something about her therapy sessions always made her weepy, but she’d stopped thinking it was a bad thing.
There was a CoBOLT plushie attached to her tote bag with a chain, and she never would have chosen that before.
She was bundled up in one of Cal’s coats, because—as it turned out—she didn’t actually own anything that could withstand a cold autumn morning in Seoul.
She was carrying around a tote bag she’d bought the other day, with a notebook she’d also purchased as her Work Notebook.
Just three months ago, Lia thought the only joy life could bring came in the form of the coolest bars in the city, the newest restaurants. Joy came from accomplishing things and working hard.
It was almost like the person she thought she was only three months ago had completely vanished. Or had become a different person entirely. Because now, joy was having a morning coffee and listening to your favorite music, joy was having a plushie on your tote bag.
Joy was heading up to the mezzanine to go back to your friend who had waited patiently for your session to finish.
Cal was sitting at the very last table in the back of the room, the top of his head haloed in warm yellow lights from the industrial-style pendant lights.
His legs were tucked into the plushy club chair in the most impossible angle.
His hands were spread over the flat pages of a notebook, a pen firmly in his hand as he was fully bent over the table, writing furiously as he nodded along to whatever he was listening to.
There were some days that joy also felt like hope. Like maybe today was a day that she wouldn’t feel lonely.
Lia didn’t want to judge the warmth she felt in her chest. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t good. But it was a feeling she allowed herself to have now. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Hey, Best Butt,” she said, waving a hand to catch his attention. Cal scowled at her as she giggled and reoccupied the seat across from him. Best Butt was a fandom joke she could now say out loud. “Here’s your coat back.”
“Dangerous words for someone who never would have found this bakery without me.”
“Oo na, oo na, I get lost all the time.” Lia rolled her eyes as Cal laughed. “Sorry the session ran a little long. I told you, you didn’t have to wait for me. I’m sure you have a lot to do, and—”
“—and I wanted to be here,” Cal reminded her, reaching over to squeeze her hand quickly before letting it go. “Plus, I drove you here.”
“You did.”
“And I got to do a little writing.”
“You did.”
“Which I won’t show you because—”
“No spoilers!”
“Exactly.” He looked smug and confident, and it was a good look on him, Lia decided.
“You still owe me, though,” Lia said, because she liked to tease him. And hey, if it gave them a reason to keep hanging out (did they need reasons?), she was all for it. “My knees are still hurting from yesterday.”
“It is not that bad.”
“And my throat is always a little parched now,” she said dramatically, rubbing over her throat like she could coax it back to life. “My hydration levels will never be the same again.”
“People walk around Itaewon all the time.”
“Yes, but not me!” Lia pouted, showing him a photo he’d definitely already seen (and saved to his phone, but she didn’t know that yet)—a selfie of her, sweaty and miserable, cheeks flushed from heat after being made to climb up several steep hills that led to the Leeum Museum. And Lia hated hiking.
“Did you enjoy the museum, at least?” Cal asked.
“Yes! I want to put rainbow film on my windows now, like that spiral staircase.” She frowned and swiped through her photos. “I wish you were there. Even if just to drive me up to the door. If we ever end up moving together, we can never live in Itaewon.”
“I’ll take that into consideration.” Cal’s laughter was loud and was probably floating down to the patrons on the first floor.
Lia continued to playfully berate him as he busily put away his crumpled-up notebook pages and headphones when a waitress approached them with a gorgeous-looking flattened croissant filled with dollops of whipped cream and a bright red strawberry.
Lia’s eyes widened at the confection as the waitress said something cheerfully in Korean and placed the tray between them. Cal gave her a polite nod and a “kamsahamnida.” Then from the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a little candle and wedged it into the cream, using a lighter to light it.
“Happy one month in Seoul,” he said with a grin. “There was a huge debate among us if you and Teddy had already been here a month or two, since you arrived late August, and it’s nearly the end of September.”
“I’m going to guess whatever Siwan said won the argument.”
“Yes, but I also thought one month felt right,” Cal explained, his eyes oddly focused on the flickering light, his palms cupped around the little flame. “Long enough that you and I are a little closer, but not long enough for this to be over anytime soon.”
Lia decided she liked being able to feel joy. Cal looked up from his hands and into her face, all shy smiles and slight embarrassment at his sweet gesture.
“Make a wish, Lia-yah.”
So Lia closed her eyes and made one.
She talked to him about her new part-time job, how secretly excited she was about it all.
She was working on a proposal to get the band’s Dawn album pressed into vinyl, both for the nostalgia factor and to get new fans interested.
Plus, the girls were always talking about expanding the universe of that album, and a vinyl release could be the perfect way to let it out.
“I think it’s a great idea.” Cal nodded in approval. “I’ve always been partial to the physical. Tactile things.”
And sometimes her heart would flip, with little things like that, because it almost felt like flirting. But she was enjoying this dynamic so much that it was easy to set it aside and chalk it up to residual feelings from being around him. Like shuddering after getting warm really fast.
“And maybe I’m just a basic millennial, but the idea of physical copies feels precious. Like the fact that it exists physically is a gift.”
“Lucky for us, the SixJays have a mostly millennial following. It’ll be pricey though.” Lia sighed. “But maybe we can do a really limited run, and pre-sell, so we cover the costs. We can tease the vinyl, get people to sign up for updates, use that to gauge how many we need for a print run.”
“And you’ve never thought about working for Triptych full time?
” he asked her, sipping his pourover. Lia had recently discovered she was not a pourover person.
Luckily, Cal was more than happy to have a latte ready and waiting for her every morning.
Which, how did he even have the energy for all of this?
“Even BINJ would be lucky if their marketing staff talked like you.”
“Oh come on,” he said, rolling his eyes at the sour look on Lia’s face. “You know, in Korea, it’s perfectly normal to use a connection to get to where you want to be. If it gets you what you want, it doesn’t hurt anyone, right?”
She didn’t change the expression she wore at him, which made him laugh.
“Just saying,” he continued. “You can get good things when you ask for them.”
“You can also be horribly rejected by people who mean the most to you.” She clapped her hand over her mouth because even she hadn’t expected to say that.
And to be fair to Cal, he didn’t call her out on it or tell her how she was wrong.
He only nodded, agreeing with her. But he also reached out, waiting for her to lower her hand slightly from her mouth before gently pulling it away.
“I wonder what you would be like if people had cared for your heart better,” he said softly, and Lia felt like he was looking right into her soul. Her heart ached then, but she couldn’t tell if it was in longing or sadness. “Because I already like you a lot.”
“You know you can ask for good things too,” she pointed out, because what were they, if not two people who needed each other’s advice. “From your bandmates. Your management. Your fans. Me.”
“I’m trying,” he assured her. “But the only way I know how to do that is with music. And that takes time. But it’s been going really well.”
“No spoilers. I mean it.”