Chapter 11
Nothing happened? What the fuck did that even mean?
Andy huffed, ducking his head under the shower’s powerful spray, grateful once again for Sky Village’s seemingly endless supply of hot water.
If only it was enough to melt the ice king.
On the one hand, no. Nothing actually happened.
There was no awkward kiss. No one shoved their hands into anyone’s pants.
But, on the other hand, something had most definitely happened.
There’d been a moment between him and Min Jae where a kiss seemed inevitable.
That could’ve even led to some quick hand action.
You just didn’t tenderly caress another guy’s face, longingly–and, honestly, lustfully–when it wasn’t leading to something happening. Fuck.
Andy shut off the water, letting his body drip into the shower for a few long, slow breaths before reaching for his towel.
The hot water had worked some of its magic, dissolving some of the tension from his back and shoulders.
But the more stubborn knots remained. What he wouldn’t give for an actual bath. Or a massage. Or a good fuck.
But what Andy mostly wanted was answers.
What the fuck was up with Min Jae? One day, he’s the ice king with walls so thick you’d think he was hoarding gold.
The next, he’s making a secret surprise move in the most romantic possible way.
Then he goes right back to glacier town.
The guy wasn’t right in the head. Part of the reason Andy had avoided dating was to avoid guys like Min Jae. Crazy hot. But also just crazy.
Andy thoroughly dried himself before wrapping the towel around his waist. Standing at the steam-fogged mirror, he wiped a hand across it, revealing his reflection.
He leaned in close, inspecting his face for any new signs of wear and tear.
The contest had only been weeks, so far.
But it felt hella longer than that. Still, no bags under his eyes, yet.
His skin, still blessedly clear, with a touch of blotchy redness from the hot water.
And good enough for mission assignment day.
He grabbed his tube of the expensive Chinese moisturizer his sister Hannah had recommended, liberally applying it to his face before running his fingers through his recently trimmed hair.
The show’s stylists were absolute wizards, better even than the magic Mexican ladies from that salon next to the supermercado on Florin.
He grinned. Two could play the crazy hot game.
His roomies were already dressed and ready when Andy emerged from the bathroom.
He promised them he’d catch up once he was ready to go.
Finally alone in their dorm room, Andy dressed low-key slutty for breakfast–a tight black t-shirt and skinny jeans that made his ass look divine.
He was on camera, so he kept his towel around his waist until he’d yanked his pants up in deference to the show’s censors.
But there was no rule against being shirtless, so he gave the audience as much of a show as he was allowed.
After tying up his simple, black crosstrainers–just in case they had to perform–Andy grabbed his Sky Village badge and re-emerged into the world washed, rested, and ready to conquer.
Andy’s route to the cafeteria took him past the floor-to-ceiling glass walls of the fitness center, the heavy, metallic clanking from the weight machines echoing in the corridor.
He preferred his own punishing, pre-dawn sessions of cardio and core work when the room was quiet.
A handful of guys were still inside, getting in a last-minute workout, performing for the wall of mirrors before they had to do the same for the cameras.
Andy almost missed him as he walked by, his pounding steps thumping a rapid rhythm on the treadmill in the far corner.
Min Jae. Andy almost kept going. Two could play the ice king game, too.
But ice wasn’t his style. He abruptly reversed course, marching into the fitness center on a mission, beating a direct path to the corner treadmill.
He halted beside Min Jae, who ignored him as he ran, his perfect pace immediately triggering the signal song in Andy’s head. Of course.
“Hey,” Andy said, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard over Min Jae’s running. “We need to talk.” Min Jae gave no signs that he’d heard Andy, or even noticed he was there. “I said–” Andy continued, even louder.
“I heard you,” Min Jae replied without looking over. Even in the mirror, he only made eye contact with himself. “I’m a little busy right now.”
Andy snorted. “Yeah, running away, as usual. Too bad this treadmill doesn’t actually go anywhere.”
Min Jae huffed, still not slowing his pace. “We have nothing to talk about.”
“Are you sure?” Andy pointedly glanced in the mirror, mentally counting the others in the fitness center with them.
It was a calculated risk, confronting Min Jae in front of others.
But cornering him like that was the only way Andy could think of to force Min Jae to talk.
“Because I feel like we need to talk about what happened. The way you’ve been acting–”
“I’ve been acting normally,” Min Jae snapped. “Just like you. Inserting yourself into situations where you don’t belong. Sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted.”
Andy’s eyebrows shot up. Not wanted? What the hell? “You say that now, but it sure felt like you wanted something from me then. Maybe not my nose, but–”
“You’re wrong,” Min Jae cut in, his jaw muscles tensing. “You saw something that wasn’t there. Like you said yesterday, nothing happened. Don’t make it into something it wasn’t. Now, if you don’t mind?” He tapped at the treadmill controls, bumping the speed up a couple notches.
Andy huffed. He’d been gaslit plenty of times.
He’d even done it himself, assuring his random hookups that he’d definitely text them before blocking their numbers and ghosting.
But something about Min Jae’s rewriting of their brief history felt different.
Punitive. Especially considering that it was Min Jae who’d made his move.
“Hey, ice king.” Andy grinned, pushing enough savage charm into it to outshine even the bright overhead gym lighting. “Fuck you.”
Andy turned and strolled toward the exit, shifting his savage charm to his next greatest asset as he slowly walked off. He never turned back, boldly daring Min Jae not to look.
Inwardly fuming, Andy continued to the cafeteria.
It was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do, but he was trapped inside the ultimate panopticon.
His friendly little chat with Min Jae was already on camera, even if neither of them were mic’d.
But he doubted anyone would notice, as long as he didn’t do something extra dramatic like blowing up, ranting to any and everyone who'd listen about the unfairness of it all.
So he let his anger roll off his back as much as he could, toned down his high-wattage grin to something less feral, and had some breakfast like all the other good little Dream Boys before getting on with his day.
As a special treat, the show had set up a viewing party in Sky Village’s cinema where they ran clips from the most recent episodes.
Andy expected the room to be fancy and overdone like everything else in Sky Village.
He wasn’t even close. A dozen rows of plush recliners faced a screen at least as big as the one in the auditorium.
Andy, Leo, and Min Jun grabbed seats near the back and settled in for the show.
Seeing himself on screen wasn’t nearly as disturbing as Andy had expected.
Which was fortunate, since, as the number one ranked contestant, he saw a lot of himself on screen.
Mostly his keystone moments. His original ranking performance.
The killing part in the signal song with Min Jae, which made him want to squirm.
The Kings of Heart performing in the first mission.
But there was some surprising behind-the-scenes footage, too.
A few minutes of a chat he’d totally forgotten about with Tae Oh in their dorm room.
The show’s maknae had been crying, missing his family and friends, so Andy did his best to talk him off the ledge.
Then, another forgotten moment, during the Kingmaker rehearsals, when Peak and Leo started arguing, and Andy shamed them into apologizing to each other.
Leo snorted when he saw that. “I’ve never had an older brother,” he whispered to Andy, “but that’s what I’d always imagined one to be like.”
Andy felt a hundred pounds lighter by the time the viewing party was done, and energized almost back to full. That was also fortunate since, after lunch, it was time for the next mission announcement.
The auditorium had been reset back to normal after their games day, with the stage and carpeted risers back in place.
A hush fell over the assembled contestants, who’d been expecting another appearance from Si Woo, as Director Choi walked on stage.
Dressed in a multi-colored, oversized designer sweater and pearl gray trousers with an impossible drape over his light brown Italian loafers, Choi moved with an energetic bounce in his step.
Andy hadn’t seen him since the Palate dinner.
Most of the contestants hadn’t seen him since the ranking performances.
Andy pushed his shoulders a little straighter.
If Choi was announcing the next mission, it had to be something big.