Chapter 22
MINJEE DOESN’T RESPOND TO ANY OF MY TEXTS, not even when I send her the photos we took together. She just leaves me on read, message after message.
Maybe she just got busy , I tell myself. But there’s a part of me that knows that something is wrong, especially after the look on her face the last time I saw her.
On Tuesday, I send her a text saying, Hey, are you okay? No response. Just read. We don’t have any scenes together this week, so I have no excuse to see her in person. But Bryan does, so at the end of our shooting day, I ask him, “Hey, do you know if Minjee is okay?”
Bryan cocks his head to the side. “Huh? Yeah, I filmed a scene with her yesterday. She seemed fine, as far as I could tell. Didn’t you guys hang out on Sunday?”
“Yeah. But she was acting kind of weird, or at least she was at the end of the day. I think something happened, but I have no idea what. We didn’t fight or anything.”
“Want me to ask her what’s wrong? I have a stunt training session with her at the dojang on Friday.”
“Dojang?” I ask. The only meaning for “dojang” I know is “stamp,” but that’s probably not what he means.
Bryan laughs. “Oh, sorry. I think Americans just call it a dojo, but in Korean it’s dojang. Like a dojo, but it’s for taekwondo, not karate.”
“Ah.” My cheeks redden. You’d think that after several years of living in Korea, I’d stop encountering new words, but nope.
Bryan’s expression softens. He gives me an encouraging fist bump on my shoulder.
“It’s okay,” he says. “There’s no way you could have known that unless you did martial arts. Maybe this is a sign that you should do your own stunts.”
“Ugh, I would if Director Cha gave me some... but no, crown princesses like me just have to sit still, look pretty, and get rescued.”
“I mean, but are you really complaining about getting rescued by a hot prince like me, though?”
I give Bryan a searing look. “Yes, Bryan. I am. A lot.”
He laughs. Some things never change.
“Okay, okay,” Bryan finally says. “But yeah, I can ask her if you want.”
“Nah, it’s okay. It feels kind of weird for my fake boyfriend to talk to the girl I have a crush on for me. Thanks, though.”
Bryan wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, if you put it that way, that does sound awkward. Well, good luck! Let me know if there’s any way I can help.”
The only bright spot of my entire week is Wednesday evening, when Director Cha gathers everyone on set around for a special announcement.
“I’m happy to inform you all that the studio has decided to extend Fated Destiny for four more episodes!” he says, looking very pleased with himself. “The show’s popularity is only getting better thanks to all of your hard work. Congratulations.”
We all cheer. Everyone is in a really good mood after that, although there’s also an undercurrent of anxiety.
K-dramas are usually sixteen episodes long but are extended for a few more episodes if the show is really popular.
.. whether or not the plot can be stretched out that long.
This week, we were beginning to shoot what we thought were the last three episodes.
But now, there are four more. It’ll be interesting to see what the creative team comes up with next.
On my way home that night, I call Minjee. I miss being able to talk to her about what’s going on in the show and want to check on her to make sure she really is okay. Since she left my messages on read the last few times I tried to reach her, though, I don’t expect her to pick up.
But she does. Or at least I think she does. The ringing stops, but I hear nothing on the other line.
“Hello?” I say. “Minjee?”
“Hi, Hana.” Minjee’s voice sounds really stiff like it did the last time we talked. “Can I help you?”
Her really formal question throws me off. She’s talking to me like she’s a customer service representative and not my friend.
“Um, Minjee, are you okay?” I ask. “Look, if I did something wrong... please tell me. Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”
Minjee lets out a deep sigh. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hana. I just...” She trails off, and for a long moment, she doesn’t say anything.
“You just?”
She takes a sharp breath. “I can’t be friends with you anymore. I know that sounds really mean, but it’s not your fault and it’s complicated. So please stop texting or calling me, okay?”
“Wait, what—”
Minjee hangs up, cutting me off. What the—?
I bring my feet up to where I’m sitting in the bus, wrap my hands around my knees, and watch the world outside go by as I try to make sense of what just happened.
The next day, I’m a total mess. I forget my lines and I come in when it’s not my cue. It gets so bad that Director Cha yells at me, “Leave and come back when you’re ready to take this more seriously!”
I bow apologetically and walk away from where the crew’s set up.
We’re shooting scenes at the Starfield Library in the COEX Mall at Gangnam today, which means all the people standing by the barriers we’ve set up to prevent disruptions saw me getting scolded by the director. And probably took pictures of it.
I pull up the hood of my jacket over my face and sit alone at one of the tables.
On-location scenes at public places like this are sometimes fun but also nerve-racking.
Thankfully, people are usually respectfully quiet when the camera is rolling, but it sucks to have a live audience watching every bad take you do.
From where I’m sitting, I stare up at one of the huge, two-storied floor-to-ceiling bookcases of the library.
Golden-white lights line the shelves, creating a luminous and calming effect.
Since I don’t want to think about anything else, I scan the books on the shelves, trying to see if I’ve read any of them.
“Hey!”
I look up to see Bryan running toward me, accompanied by the enthusiastic hoots and cheers of our onlookers.
“Are you okay?” he asks after flashing everyone a bright grin.
I beckon him over.
He sits down across from me at the table and whispers so only I can hear, “Okay, what’s up?”
“It’s Minjee,” I say. “I finally got a hold of her yesterday and she said she suddenly doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore. I’ve known her since middle school! And as far as I know, nothing’s happened between us, so... I’m really confused.”
Bryan sits back in his chair and crosses one leg on top of the other, winking back at the crowd when they scream at his pose.
I groan. “I really can’t have a conversation with you like this.”
“Sorry,” Bryan says, not sounding at all apologetic. “But, okay. She didn’t give you any reason at all when you spoke to her? Not even a ‘Wow, Hana, you’re such a jerk!’?”
I laugh when Bryan tries to imitate Minjee. He overshoots his voice, so he ends up sounding more like a chipmunk than an actual human being.
“Funny, but no,” I reply.
Bryan frowns but doesn’t say anything.
“What?” I ask.
He sighs. “Okay. It’s probably not my place to interfere, but I really want to finish today’s scenes so we can get out of here. And it’d suck for production to be delayed again. So...”
“So?”
“What if I gave you a chance to talk to her again, but face-to-face this time? Remember how I said I’m going to be at the dojang with her tomorrow? You could come by and talk to her then, after we’re finished training, that is. Want the address?”
Some part of me wonders if talking to Minjee face-to-face will even change anything. But I want to do anything I can to save my friendship with her.
“If it isn’t too much trouble,” I say. “That’d be great.”
“Okay, I’ll text you. But can you please brush up on your lines real quick and focus so we can go home already?”
I nod. “Thanks, and yeah, will do. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Thank you very much,” Bryan dramatically says in English. “Let’s finish up.”
Energized by the hope of being able to talk to Minjee, I quickly go over my lines and rejoin everyone else. We finish the scenes in half the time we—okay, I —spent making mistakes.
Later that day, Bryan sends the dojang’s address, as promised.
Good luck , he also texts. Fair warning: Minjee has a terrifying roundhouse kick. I’m talking about one hit KO level destructive. So, if she tries to kill me for this, save me!!!