Chapter 9 #3
Min Jae almost rolled his eyes as he took the mic and turned back to Si Woo.
“I’m honored to be standing here before such a talented group of performers–” He paused for a beat.
“–and an exemplary rival.” He briefly bowed toward the camera.
“Thank you to the Dream Makers for making this dream a possibility.”
No chuckles for Min Jae. That was fine. He could do things his way, too.
“Thank you both,” Si Woo said. “I’ll now announce who our Dream Makers have chosen as their number one Dream Boy for this elimination ceremony.
” He paused for an imaginary drumroll as a beat of cold sweat began to run down the center of Andy’s back.
“Our number one Dream Boy, winning this first elimination challenge, is Andy Kim.”
The studio literally exploded as confetti cannons fired from the ceiling rig.
The theme song blasted from the speakers.
Andy blinked, his ears ringing. Was that really happening?
A heavy hand clapped onto his shoulder. Leo, who’d come down from his seat, his eyes wet with fresh tears. “Andy! You did it! Number one!”
Kyun Woo and Seo Jin, the only unranked members of Andy’s team jumped up and rushed down from the risers, smiles wide and bright.
They were also crying, but only partly from joy.
They still celebrated right along with Leo.
And Min Jun. And the rest of the team, apparently, who’d all abandoned their seats to congratulate their former team leader.
Andy could only stare, a dumbfounded grin slowly spreading across his face.
The cameras were all pointed at him, the bright lights almost blinding.
Si Woo stood in the distance, gesturing for Andy to walk up and take his seat.
Maybe it was real. Seeing the absolute joy on his friends’ faces, the genuine shock and applause from the other contestants, and the giant screen flashing his name, meant it had to be real. He was number one.
Andy turned to congratulate his rival, but Min Jae was already gone.
He looked up at the risers, spotting him standing at his new chair.
The number two chair. There was almost no telling what was going on inside his head, but Andy could probably guess.
Min Jae’s ramrod straight posture and perfectly composed smile gave a little away.
When Andy finally climbed toward the top row, Min Jae offered him a pleasant smile and a polite bow.
Up close, Andy could almost hear the screaming inside Min Jae’s head.
He wanted to reach out to him, to calm him, to assure him that everything would be alright.
The number two spot guaranteed him a position in Pr1ze just as much as the top spot did. But that would have to wait.
Andy took his seat as Si Woo closed out the broadcast, thanking the Dream Boys, and the Dream Makers in particular, for their gracious support.
But Andy barely heard any of that. His mind was too busy wrestling with the idea that he–an unknown American who’d basically just appeared on Korean TV out of nowhere–had risen to the number one spot on Korea’s number one idol survival show.
He’d already pinched himself a dozen times, sure that he was still fast asleep in his dorm bed.
Did they do that in Korea, too? He had no idea.
But the feeling continued into the evening, Andy’s body moving on autopilot, producing smiles and thank yous when required, until his mind finally caught up.
The contestants had already been bussed back to Sky Village by then, and were enjoying a bittersweet banquet in their honor.
It was no dinner at Palate, but it was a generous step up from their usual meal service. Plus, they had beer.
“I really won,” Andy announced, cutting Leo off in the middle of a story about all the girls his parents had tried to match him with.
Min Jun nearly spit out his beer. “You’re just now realizing that?”
“Sorry.” Andy grinned, chuckling as his cheeks warmed. “I’m a little–” He paused, turning to Leo. “How would I say scatterbrained in Korean?”
Leo chuckled. “Hell if I know.”
Andy shrugged. “Yeah, well,” he continued in Korean, “I guess it just took me a while to believe this is really happening.”
“We’d probably say something like you lost your mind,” Min Jun offered, to everyone’s surprise. “What? I speak English, too.”
Andy and Leo both burst out laughing, suddenly robbed of their secret language.
Leo continued with his story about traditional parents concerned with him choosing just the right mate.
Andy was glad his parents weren’t like that.
As if they’d jump on the apps or something, pinging a grid of shirtless torsos to find out if they had good jobs and respected their elders.
Andy half-listened, still only half-present, until he emptied his glass.
“Hey I’m gonna see if being the top ranked Dream Boy gets me a second beer. ”
“Good luck,” Leo replied. “See if they’ll give you one for me, too.”
Andy wandered toward the banquet table, his attention zeroing in on a tray of kimbap, when a moving shadow in the far corner caught his eye.
Min Jae, already changed out of his Dream Boy Project uniform into a dark t-shirt and jeans, paused beside the exit door, scanning the room to ensure no one was watching before slipping out.
Andy frowned. That wasn’t suspicious at all.
His curiosity piqued, he set his empty glass on the table and took a step toward the door, returned to quickly snag a piece of kimbap, and shoved it into his mouth.
Chewing, he resumed his surprise surveillance work and made a quick path toward the exit.
Min Jae was just rounding the curve in the corridor to the left.
Andy followed him, not exactly trying to catch up.
He wanted to know where his rival was headed in such a secret hurry.
He stayed on Min Jae’s trail when he turned down the Dragon Wing corridor, even more confused.
Had Min Jae decided to get a jump on rehearsing for the next mission or something?
A mission they hadn’t even been told about yet?
But Min Jae continued past the practice room door, stopping at a plain, unmarked service door.
He opened it without looking back and slipped through.
Still intrigued, and now a little concerned, Andy hurried to the door and discovered a service stairwell leading up to the roof.
Andy gasped as he stepped outside, suddenly presented with a rolling landscape carpeted with twinkling lights and the distant towers of Seoul.
An instant, magical escape from the pressures of the competition and the babbling, beer-drinking Dream Boys gathered in the banquet hall. Not to mention all the cameras.
Andy closed the door behind him as quietly as he could. He spotted Min Jae standing on the far side of the roof, and walked over to join him.
“I’m pretty sure we’re not allowed up here,” Andy announced.
Min Jae, to his credit, didn’t jump in surprise. He didn’t even turn around. “Then, maybe you should leave.”
Andy chuckled, stopping to lean against the railing beside Min Jae. “I’m sorry. Did you want to brood in peace?”
Min Jae sighed. “No, I’m not here to brood. Well, not just to brood.”
“It’s not that bad. Being number two, I mean. I’ve been doing it basically since we got here.”
“It’s not that either.” Min Jae sighed again. Louder and sharper. Almost a scoff. “Okay, that’s part of it. It’s just–” He turned to look at Andy, his pain and irritation battling for dominance on his face. “Why are you even here, if not to gloat?”
“Gloat?” Andy actually scoffed, furrowing his brows as he locked eyes with Min Jae. “Seriously? I mean, I know we barely know each other–which is mostly your fault, by the way. But you should at least know me well enough by now to know that I don’t gloat.”
Min Jae held Andy’s gaze for several breaths before nodding. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just projecting.”
Andy shook his head. “I don’t think gloating is really your thing, either.”
Min Jae half frowned. “I thought you said we don’t know each other very well.”
Andy almost laughed at Min Jae's silly attempt to start an argument. “Yeah, well, I know you enough to say that. I mean, I don’t know a damn thing about you. But I know a lot about how you are. I saw your ranking performance. We did the signal song killing part together. And your team’s Kingmaker performance.
Not to mention the advice bomb you dropped on me that night in the practice room. ”
Min Jae’s gaze narrowed as Andy detailed his list. “Advice bomb?”
“Stop deflecting. My point is that all those things told me a lot about how you are. You’re talented.
Driven. Ambitious. You like to focus on the details.
And you put up a front half the time, which means you don’t like people to know what you’re really thinking.
Only, you’re not as good at it as you think you are. ”
To Andy’s great surprise, Min Jae smirked. “I thought you said I was talented.”
Andy laughed. “At singing and dancing. And maybe even at hiding your real feelings. For the most part.”
Min Jae’s gaze narrowed again. Assessing, but there wasn’t any malice behind it.
Just curiosity. “Well, I know that you’re also talented.
Funny. Charming to a fault, even. And maybe that’s all the real you.
Except, I think it isn’t. I think you’re really doing the same thing.
Hiding your true feelings, but with a different mask. ”
Andy's breath caught in his throat. He suddenly had no witty comeback, no charming deflection.
He'd just been seen. Completely and totally seen.
Min Jae had him pinned, and all he could do was stare like an animal caught in the headlights.
Min Jae's gaze softened, his eyes sparkling in the bright moonlight.
Eyes that Andy was immediately drawn towards.
"So," he finally said, his voice so strained it almost cracked, his cheeks so warm they practically burned. "You really have been watching."
Min Jae took the smallest step forward. Andy held his ground, suddenly powerless to respond or even move, as Min Jae slowly lifted a hand, the motion hesitant, almost questioning.
His fingertips, warm and slightly rough, gently brushed against Andy’s cheek, his thumb coming to rest just at the corner of Andy’s mouth.
The unexpected, tender touch was a jolt, completely short-circuiting Andy's brain. Everything else fell away, leaving only the cool night air on his hot skin and the shocking, gentle warmth of Min Jae’s hand on his face.
Min Jae’s gaze dropped to his lips, and the world seemed to stop.
Bam.
The heavy rooftop door flew open, slamming against the wall like a gunshot. The moment shattered. Min Jae jerked his hand away from Andy’s face as if he’d been burned, stumbling back a step.
A man stood silhouetted in the doorway, a cigarette and a lighter in his hands.
One of the junior staff members from the production team.
He froze, his eyes wide, taking in the scene—Andy and Min Jae standing too close under the moonlight, the electric tension still crackling in the air between them.
For a long moment, nobody moved, locked in a triangle of stunned, awkward quiet so vast Andy could hear the wind whistling through the trees below.
The staff member finally broke the silence, his voice a low, nervous rumble.
“You both should probably go back inside.” He glanced down at the unlit cigarette in his hand as if just remembering why he’d gone up there.
He looked back at them, his expression shifting from surprise to a weary, pragmatic truce.
“I promise I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”